Rebel
by ThreeMagpies
Summary: A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU. Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012, the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech team although the Mathesons escaped to continue their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, she was branded crazy, a rebel. She ran to her Uncle Miles.
1. Chapter 1

Rebel.

AN: This is a birthday story for LemonSupreme. Hoping you had a wonderful day, Lemon, and wishing you and your loved ones the very, very best for the year to come and always. Sending you a big hug and lots of love, cheers, Magpie.

Prologue

The blackout didn't happen in 2012, although the DoD did try to use the Nanotech weapon developed by Rachael and Ben Matheson. The weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team in their base in Colorado although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work.

Gradually though, small wars became bigger ones and the planet was dragged through endless and escalating conflict. From the early 20's, rationing and conscription became part of daily existence but somehow life went on.

For Charlie Matheson, being a DoD sponsored science major in Colorado was as good as it got. She had her family, enough food and access to tech that others could only dream of. Then, almost overnight, everything changed. Suddenly she was a fugitive and on the run. There was only one place she could go, only one person who might still be on her side.

…

Denver, Colorado, 2027.

Charlie had known for some time that her scientist parents were working on a weapon for the DoD. She also knew that they'd spent the last fifteen years perfecting it. She didn't know then what the weapon was, only that it involved some kind of nanotech and it had meant money for life-saving medical treatment for Danny and a fully paid scholarship for her.

But when she accidentally stumbled onto what it was her mom and dad were working on, she understood enough about the tech to be terrified.

She confronted them but was told that the danger was all in her head. She tried to warn people through her student blog but her posts were summarily deleted, her student visa revoked. Then her access to the net was blocked and her ID blacklisted.

Suddenly her friends were afraid to talk to her, to be seen with her. Even Danny started looking at her as though she was crazy. Then her mom tried to have her committed, saying it was for her own good.

Like crap.

And when the black van with the eye in a triangle decals pulled up in front of the house, she ran.

….

Somewhere on the outskirts of Chicago, three days later.

The moon was full and the long, tree lined street lit almost as bright as day. Charlie waited in the deep shadow of the street tree outside the small, single story bungalow that Miles called home when he wasn't away on active duty and checked one more time that the coast was clear. Satisfied, she opened the gate and padded quickly up the cracked, weedy path, ducking into the even deeper shadow of the brick porch, glad for once that Miles hadn't taken her advice and put in a sensor light.

Kneeling by the entrance, she tilted a sad looking prickly pear in its concrete pot and retrieved the spare house key from the little hollow underneath.

She took a moment to grieve… because If things were different it would've been much more fun to climb in through a window and do battle with Miles' latest booby traps for the unwary but right now she was too tired and hungry after hitchhiking halfway across the map to do battle with anything.

She stood up and blew out a breath. Miles had said she was welcome anytime, especially when things got bad at home between her and her mom. But bad didn't exactly cover it this time. This time it was an E.L.E.

Something like relief wafted through her like a cool breeze and she felt a weight lift from her chest. She'd be safe here for a while. After the big bust up between Miles and her dad after he found out that Miles had been fucking her mom, Chicago was the last place anyone would expect her to go and her uncle Miles the last person they'd expect her to go to. And right now she needed to be somewhere no one would think to look for her while she worked out what to do next, and who to tell.

Her lips twisted in a sort of smile. This time they couldn't pretend she was crazy and try to put her away. This time she had proof.

She shouldered her backpack and the messenger bag containing her laptop, two of her mom's notebooks and the pendant shaped external drive she'd found in her dad's desk. Then she headed up to the front door, letting herself in after one more glance back at the empty road. It looked like the men in black SVU's hadn't managed to track her here, not yet anyway.

Maybe she could get some sleep.

….

Bass Monroe grinned and yawned, stretching as he strolled into the kitchen, phone in hand. His bronzed, naked and hard muscled body gleamed in the warm light of the solar lamps and his dark blond curls were sleep and sweat tangled. He ran a hand through the curls then down over the scruff that had almost become a beard during his time off, then poured himself a drink from the bottle on the table, setting his phone up so he could see hands free.

He tossed the drink back, put the glass down and poured another, then leaned back against the heavy oak slab, eyes intent on the screen, a hand drifting down to play with his rapidly hardening cock. His fingers brushed tight, velvety skin and lightly aching balls, stroking harder, longer, thumb pressing hard along his shaft as he took in the vid and the blatant invitation in the scrawled handwriting scattered with lipstick kisses that accompanied it.

His tongue flickered out to wet suddenly dry lips…

Miles didn't get sexting, thought it was a cop out. But hell, this chick was sweet twenty two and girls that age didn't talk on the phone, not even when they were special ops.

Too bad she was out of town.

He sent her back a little vid of his dick dancing, blowing it's load and wearing one of the lipstick smiles just to show his appreciation then lifted his glass and drained half of it, enjoying the whisky burn in his throat. Miles somehow always had a supply of the stuff, even these days. The grin faded. It was the first time in a long while that his brother had gone on tour without him. They worked together, watched each other's backs and took care of their unit. That's how it was, how it was supposed to be.

It was how they made sure both of them survived.

He rotated his left shoulder, there was only a twinge, a distant echo of pain. The bullet wound was almost healed but they'd kept him stateside for the duration anyway, fuck it.

He tensed, alert, eyes flaring wide as the sound of a door closing echoed down the hall. Then reached down and quietly flipped the phone closed.

Someone was here and Miles wasn't due back from Parris Island till tomorrow.

…..

Charlie closed the door, flipped the lock and tossed the key on the hall stand. Then she frowned, looking around, her heart pounding. There was a light coming from the kitchen at the end of the hall but she knew Miles was away.

She was already turning, hand reaching for the doorknob when it occurred to her that maybe Miles had left the light on deliberately? She put her bags down, slipped her knife from its ankle sheath then walked softly down the hall towards the kitchen, blade ready in her hand.

She stopped at the door and looked in. Nothing.

She let out the breath she'd been holding, relaxing her grip on the knife just a little. Then saw the bottle and the half empty glass on the table.

The lights went out.

Before she could do anything else, she was pulled into the room and a long, bare arm slid around her waist holding her arms against her ribs. At the same time a hand clamped across her mouth and she was yanked back against what felt like a wall of warm, hard, very obviously male flesh. Then a long, strong leg wrapped around hers in some kind of martial arts hold and she couldn't move at all.

She panicked, nerveless fingers dropping the knife, instinct sending her straight into fight mode, struggling, kicking, trying to bite, trying to hit out with the back of her head, not able to think, to plan anything, just trying to get away, to get free.

Nothing she did made any difference. It was like trying to move a brick wall. Then her head hit his shoulder, hard, and he gasped, so she did it again, and again.

'Stop moving.' The voice was loud in her ear, and familiar, very familiar. 'I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to.'

The darkness was like a cloak, it surrounded her, made everything hazy, strange. She was finding it hard to breathe, body still ready to fight death. Or worse, even though she knew for sure now that this man wasn't a threat.

Bass took his hand away from the girl's mouth and his fingers circled her throat, the grip gentle but very firm, making sure she didn't do anything stupid. The fingers of his other hand brushed her breast, and he pulled them back, his voice puzzled now. 'Who are you? Did Miles invite you?'

She slumped against him, adrenalin and relief making her heart pound and head swim. 'Bass, It's me. Charlie.'

He let go abruptly and stepped back, flipping the lights on with one hand but keeping hold of her arm with the other, blinking in the sudden light. 'Charlie?' Then he saw her face. 'What's happened?'

She stared, unable to stop herself looking at all of him because he was amazing. Tall, blond, cut like a camera's dream and very…well…just very… Even through the haze of shock, hunger, exhaustion and shock her fearless Bass loving hormones were bouncing around like a pack of little, eager terriers spotting a rabbit at the door, her skin tingling where she'd been pressed up against him, against his...

She swallowed, tearing her eyes away although they didn't want to go. 'Um… Miles said I could come here if I needed a bed… I mean if I needed a place to sleep?' Damn it, she was stammering like some kid. She cleared her throat and started again. 'I just need somewhere to stay for a couple of days, ok?'

He blinked, then recovered. 'Sure, no problem...' He tipped his head towards the hall, 'Miles isn't back till tomorrow so you can take his room, for tonight anyway, we can sort it out later. I only got here today too, came down to take him fishing.' Then he stopped talking, mouth still open, hands moving in a kind of fan shape in front of his groin. 'Shit. I'm naked. Miles is gonna kill me.'

She was struggling not to laugh out loud. His face was a picture of horror, embarrassment with a little bit of actual fear thrown in. 'He'll only know if we tell him.' But it had been such a crappy few days that she wanted to throw her arms round him and thank him for making things a bit better. She gasped as a stream of red hot lava streaked from her head through her belly and curled her toes at the thought of that.

Luckily, he didn't seem to notice.

'I'm sorry, Charlie. I was in bed and the phone rang, I came out to have a drink...' He reached out for one of the tea towels hanging on hooks above the bench, draping one around his hips, lips curved in rueful grin, 'wasn't expecting visitors.'

Charlie grinned back. The towel didn't hide much, and she had an excellent memory. 'Don't worry about it.' She made sure to keep her eyes above sea-level though. The Bass Monroe she knew was brash and confident, never at a loss. She'd never seen him embarrassed and it was delicious. 'I've been a grown up for a while, remember?' She brushed past him, bumping a smooth, tanned shoulder just because she could, her hands itching to do more like they always did when she saw him. Damn his moral standards…

She went to the cupboard, pulled out a glass and poured herself a good measure of whisky, tossing it back before pouring another. It went the same way. Then she took a breath, amazed at how much better she felt just seeing him, being with him. 'Is there anything to eat?'

Bass pulled out a chair and sat, one muscular arm draped over the chair next to him, the other hand reaching for the bottle, pouring another for them both. 'Roast chicken in the fridge, bread too.' He leaned forward, 'so what've you got yourself into?'

'Can't tell you, I don't want to get you into trouble, I just need a couple of days to work things out and then I'll go.' Her mouth watering at the thought of food, Charlie opened the fridge, pulled out the chicken and half a loaf of rye bread then paused, her voice an awed whisper. 'You've got cheese. And chocolate?'

Bass shrugged. 'Military privileges. You can have them.' His was tapping the table with restless fingers. 'Charlie, answer the question. What the fuck is happening?'

She piled the wedge of cheese and the chocolate block on top of the bread and chicken, put the whole lot on the table and started eating, talking with her mouth full, 'I found out something bad, really bad. Now I've been blacklisted and my mom is trying to make out I'm crazy. I had to get out of there.'

The fingers stopped tapping, and his eyes narrowed, lips tight. 'Ok… that sounds cold even for your mom, but why the hell would they blacklist you? They don't usually do that unless you're convicted of a…' He sat forward, 'Charlie, you are family. If you're in trouble then I'll help out and Miles will too.' He reached out and tore off a chicken leg, biting a chunk off with strong, white teeth and licking the juices off his lips. 'It can't be that bad, can it?'

She stared at him, eyes very serious although it was hard to concentrate with him sitting there like some Greek statue come to life. 'Yes. It can.'

He stared back, chicken leg hanging in the air. 'Ok. So what's so bad you had to go underground?'

She dropped her eyes to her plate and kept eating, pausing only to toss back her whiskey. Then she stopped, wiped her mouth and sighed. 'I'll show you if you like, but don't say I didn't warn you.'

He hadn't moved. Then he nodded, put the chicken leg down and stood up, holding his tea towel in place. 'Then I guess I'd better get some clothes on.' Then he walked away, calling back over his shoulder. 'Back in a minute.'

She watched him go, food and whiskey forgotten because the tea towel only covered the front of him and he had a perfectly muscled back that sloped down to a beautifully twinkling vee above an equally perfect, tight, bunching ass. Damn. She couldn't help making a little, helpless sound as she watched his long, strong and lightly golden fuzzed legs taking him away.

She'd loved Bass Monroe for as long as she could remember and It was just too fucking bad that the first time she had him all to herself without Miles around to cramp her style he'd probably have to arrest her or do whatever Marines did to civilian fugitives who were planning to commit treason.

Damn.

…..

Charlie had everything ready on the table. She'd also turned the vid screen on to a news channel, put the ceiling fan on full and had a frozen meal heating in the microwave. Then she found one of her favourite LP's from Miles' huge collection of vintage discs, put it on the antique player and had it turned up to eleven.

Bass came back, dressed in worn jeans and tee and sat down across from her. His eyes were very blue as he took everything in, a blond eyebrow lifting a little. 'Highway to hell? Good choice.'

At least that's what she thought he said, it was a bit hard to tell. She nodded anyway and turned the volume down a little, 'Yeah…'

He leaned forward, 'Ok, so what's the big reveal?'

Serious now, she held the pendant up. 'This is what my parents have been working on for almost twenty years.' She turned it on and the lights went off. So did everything else. Although the music slowed to a strange moaning dirge before stopping altogether.

After that it was very quiet in the kitchen, and very dark. The street light about half a mile along the road had gone out too, which fitted with what she'd learned about the pendant's range. It was pretty late though and she doubted anyone would notice.

Bass cleared his throat, 'ok. You've got my attention.'

She flicked the pendant off and everything came back on again, the music slurring into the next track...

'How does it do that?' He nodded towards the pendant.

She held it out so he could see it, 'My folks have been working with nanotech for decades now, and my dad apparently came up with these for personal use.' She pulled the cover off and showed him the connector. 'There are bigger versions with much wider range.'

He frowned. 'You mean they've weaponised it?'

She nodded, 'I think the DoD are planning to use my parent's technology to cut off the power supply to countries they want to control.' She picked up one of her mom's notebooks. 'But according to my mom there's still a problem with containment of the effect and if something goes wrong like it did before, it's possible that the power will go off everywhere. Even here. Maybe permanently.' She sucked in a breath, 'or we'll all catch on fire like the lab did in 2012.'

Bass stared, his face pale under the lights. 'Show me again.'

She did.

He blinked, looked at the pendant, then up at her. 'I can see why they blacklisted you, Charlie,' He looked worried, 'and you're right. It's that bad.'

She nodded, she'd known the risk if she told him. 'Yeah. I understand. Just give me two minutes and I'm gone.' She started gathering up her things.

He held up a hand, 'Charlie, stop. Like I said, you're family. We'll think of something.'

His phone pinged and he flipped the cover, glancing at her before answering. 'It's Miles.'

Charlie shook her head. 'Don't tell him I'm here, not over the phone.'

He nodded, then took the call. 'Miles. Where are you?'

Charlie heard a voice but couldn't quite catch what Miles said, he sounded upset though.

Bass frowned, glanced at her again and put a finger up to his lips. 'No, I'm not alright, you're scaring me Miles. Slow down…. No I haven't heard squat from her.' He frowned harder. 'Why do you want me to fill the bath?' He listened again, puzzled. 'What do you mean it's all gonna turn off? What's gonna turn off?' His eyes widened as the voice on the other end got louder. 'Ok, ok, I'll take care of it. Take it easy. I'll get in some supplies and wait for you here, and yeah, if I do see Charlie I'll tell her that her dad loves her and that he's sorry.'

Charlie felt the colour fade from her cheeks, 'it's happening, isn't it? When?'

Bass flipped the phone shut and she jumped. 'He doesn't know, but soon according to what Ben said. The crazy fuckers. But Miles knows you're here.' He flashed her a glance. 'It's ok, I used code. There's a recall to base but not for our unit, not yet anyway, so he's driving here as fast as he can. If the power does go out like Ben said, he'll find some other way, but he wants us to lay in some supplies just in case and wait for him here.'

She sat up straight, heart pounding, mouth gone dry but strangely comforted knowing Miles was on his way. He and Bass were two of the most capable men she knew. Maybe they'd have a chance of doing something about all of this, maybe... 'Ok, how far away is he?'

Before he could answer the lights flickered, the fan slowed and the music slurred to an incoherent crawl...

'Did you do that?' He sounded cautiously hopeful.

She shook her head. 'No.'

Then everything went off. The lights, the music, the fan. Everything.

Then outside and overhead there was the sudden there and gone shadow of something big flashing across the moon, then a whoomph and deafening, grinding crash somewhere nearby and a huge explosion ripped a bright, writhing, orange hole in the dark.

Somewhere, someone screamed.

….

AN: Thanks so much for reading. I hope you liked it. All the best *lifts glass in a toast*, cheers, Magpie.


	2. Chapter 2

Rebel.

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Thank you all so much for all the encouraging comments and likes, I'm so glad you liked this story and Lemon, I'm especially glad you liked it enough to ask for more! J Thanks again to the wonderful LoveForTheStory for her feedback, you are amazing, Love.

Hope you folks like this bit…

Chapter 2

Chicago, the night of the Blackout.

The planes were falling from the sky like huge, dying birds, crashing to the ground and tearing the night apart until the city was alight with explosions, fire, smoke and frantic, echoing screams. The shrieks of tortured metal from crashing cars and trucks burst from all around and the smell of spilt fuel, burning rubber and worse things hung in the air like a foul, acrid perfume. There were people shouting and crying somewhere along the road and in an eerie accompaniment, dogs everywhere were barking and howling as though their hearts were broken.

From where Charlie and Bass were standing in the shelter of Miles' porch away from the city, it felt like Armageddon.

Charlie's cheeks were wet with tears and her voice sounded hoarse, shocked, even to her own ears. 'Are you sure Miles said he was driving?' The possibility that he could be in one of those planes was making her chest so tight she couldn't seem to get her breath.

Bass was standing just behind her, tall, broad, steady, his presence the only thing keeping her from screaming because this was the worst thing she'd ever seen.

He put his hand on her shoulder. 'Yeah, I'm sure, now take a deep breath, we'll work out what to do next once this is over.'

Over? How could this ever be over... She shivered, everything felt strange, unreal, cold and he was warm, his body real and vibrant close to hers, the tattoo on the inside of his left arm stark black against smooth moonlit skin. It was better than looking at what was happening outside so she reached out, touched it, her eyes darting up to his. 'This stands for Monroe and Matheson, doesn't it. Miles told me about it.' She frowned. 'He'll be ok, won't he?'

He leaned towards her, his eyes burning blue, little reflected flames dancing in them and his lips very close to hers. 'Charlie, take it easy. I know you're in shock but I need you to focus. We might have to move fast if anything comes too close, ok?' He took a hip flask from his jacket pocket with his other hand and held it out. 'Here, drink. It'll help.'

She blinked, watching his lips move, the way his scruff caught the light, how she wished he'd… Was she in shock? Was that what it was? She was aching to get closer to him, for him to hold her, to make her feel something better than all this death. She looked up and found his eyes.

Everything seemed to stop, as though the two of them were in a space apart from everything happening outside.

Then something exploded nearby and the loud, whirring shrieks of flying debris jerked her awake. She blinked, sucked in a breath, took the flask from his hand and took a long swallow. The silver metal was cool on her lips as the whiskey burned in her throat, bringing feeling back, making her feel something closer to herself. She gave the flask back, ran the back of her other hand across her mouth and glanced up at him, embarrassed. 'Thanks. Sorry for being such an idiot.' Shit. She'd jumped his bones like he was a juicy steak and she was starving. He didn't look upset or weird about it though, in fact he had a kind of tender, thoughtful look on his face.

He put the flask back in his pocket then wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in close. 'Hey, it's ok, I get it. But Miles is a big boy, he can take care of himself and he absolutely hates flying, remember?' He glanced down at her, 'the chump gets airsick when he climbs a ladder, we have to carry him onto the plane every time we go on tour.' But he frowned, looking out at the red lit, angry sky. 'He'll be ok.'

She leaned in close, her arm fitting around his waist as though it belonged there and managed a small smile. He was worried too, she could feel the tension in his body, hear it in his voice even over the noise outside. Her smile disappeared. 'I know, but if I'd waited one more day, he'd have been here already, not out there in this.' She turned to watch the world go to hell, glad of his arm around her, the warm, solid strength of him because right now she'd take all the help she could get. 'It's all my fault Bass. If I hadn't found out and started shooting my mouth off, the DoD might not have done this. They knew what could happen if they set off the nanotech before it was fixed because my dad would've told them. He told Miles he was sorry, didn't he?

He nodded but didn't look convinced. 'Yeah, maybe. But he could've just been saying sorry your mom's such a bitch.' He let her go and took her shoulders in strong hands, turning her round to face him. 'Charlie. Read my lips. This is not your fault.' He blew out a breath and shrugged, an eyebrow lifting when he saw the question and doubt in her eyes. 'Ok… maybe your folks should've burned everything before letting the DoD have any of this stuff, so yeah, it's on them too, and yeah, maybe you could've been a bit more discreet about telling people. But someone in the DoD did it, and what I really want to know is why.'

She stared up at him, 'what do you mean?'

There was another crash somewhere close outside, almost in the backyard and they both jumped.

His fingers tightened on her shoulders and he leaned closer, his face tight, tense and edged in flickering red-tinged, moonlight, eyes shadowed and blown to black. 'You say the DoD had to know there were problems with the tech so I want to know why the fuck they'd take the chance of something like this shit happening to their own country.' He stabbed a long finger towards the burning city, 'The war's bad, yeah, but the peace talks have been going ok, there's even been talk of a ceasefire, so why the rush? Why do it at all unless the bastards actually want the world to fall apart?'

She frowned, 'that's crazy. They'd be in the same boat as everyone else.'

'Maybe, maybe not.' His voice was urgent, harsh. 'They've had fifteen years to get ready and they've got a town full of the best scientists in the country working for them, including your mom and dad. Who knows what resources they've got.' His eyes narrowed. 'And as for what they did to you? Think about it, Charlie, even if you had found someone who'd listen to a story as crazy as yours, without more hard proof than a kill switch and your mom's science project journals, all you've got is another wackjob conspiracy theory.'

Without thinking, her hand went up to the pendant, her fingers curling around it, almost protective. Her dad had said he was sorry and she believed him. She didn't want to think about her mom right now, but Danny? She wished she'd been able to explain things to Danny before leaving. Now there was a chance she'd never see him again.

Bass pointed outside again. 'We don't know how much of the country is blacked out, or how much of the whole fucking world come to that. This could be happening everywhere. We don't know a damn thing, Charlie. There's no net, no phones, no transport, nothing's working. If the power stays off, we're back to the fucking dark ages as of now. Hell, maybe there's no government left either, the conference finished yesterday and the president was supposed to be flying back home tonight along with half the fucking cabinet.'

Charlie's eyes widened, horrified. 'Was she?'

He nodded, grim. 'Yeah, it was on the news feed this afternoon. They'd just finished up and everyone was headed home. Good timing huh? That's one fucking good reason for doing it right there. Those bastards could've wiped out half the world's leaders with one fucking move. Shit.' He was vibrating with anger, frustration, then he stopped, running a hand through his hair, sucking in a long, long breath.

Charlie watched as he pulled himself back, the soldier taking over.

His voice was quiet now, certain. 'People out there are going to sit and wait for someone to come and fix things for one day maybe, maybe two, but the longer this thing keeps going? Its gonna get bad. Very, very bad.' He started pacing up and down the small space, restless, his eyes following her as he moved, his hands curled into fists. 'Just wait till the looting starts, the fighting when people get scared and hungry and sick from bad water and no sanitation. Wait till they see their kids start dying and can't do anything about it. Wait till they're ready to do anything to survive. Believe me they'll fall in line for the first person who promises a solution. I've seen it.'

She was watching him, knew he was telling the truth. It was there in his eyes. 'And you think that's going to be someone from the DoD?'

He nodded. 'Yes, I do. You leaving might have sped things up a little, that's all. Although they obviously didn't want you making any noise and maybe spooking the wrong people before they were ready.' His eyes were hard, shadowed, 'this is a win win situation for them, Charlie. If it had worked like it was supposed to, they'd be heroes, and if it went wrong they'd still win because they'd be the only ones with any idea what was going on. The only ones prepared.' His finger stabbed towards the floor, and he came closer, eyes hard, 'and your folks just spent the last fifteen years making sure they could do it without frying everyone on the planet.'

Charlie wanted to throw up, she was angry, hurt, even though she knew he was right. 'My parents didn't mean for this to happen, Bass. You've seen my mom's notes, they tried to tell them it wasn't ready.' She took the pendant off and held it up, 'and they made these just in case. They're the back-up plan, a way of controlling the nanotech away from the lab. There's twelve of them I think. But this one is my dad's. He and this computer genius friend of his Aaron were working on it together, and I don't think the DoD or even my mom knows everything that's on it. I do know it's got a bigger range than the others though.' Her fingers tightened on the small oval, and she looked up at him, wanting him to understand. 'It's special.'

He glanced at it, impatient. 'Ok, so your dad's got a bigger pendant than everyone else. The powers already off, what does it matter?'

She flicked the tiny control at the wider end with her thumb. There was a noise like a computer start up, and a small power light came on in the centre. At the same time, the hall light behind them went on and the music came on, 'Dirty deeds' this time, she recognised the riff. A half second later the street light down the road flickered and lit up.

Bass stared, his eyes intent, curious now. 'It works both ways? I'm impressed.'

She nodded and took a deep, steadying breath, 'I thought it would, wasn't totally sure until now though.' She flicked it off, glancing up at him as the lights went out and the music stopped again. 'In case they can use it to track us.'

He smiled, grim, approving. 'Always knew you were smart as well as cute, Charlie.'

She gave him a look but tried to hide how much it meant to hear him say that, because even in all this chaos and destruction the fact that he'd thought of her at all sent shivers running down to her toes. She let the pendant fall, the metal cool on the heated skin between her breasts, then straightened up and focused on the moment. 'So, what do we do now?'

The air was fill with clouds of dark, acrid smoke and there was a wide, dusky red ring around the moon. The falling planes seemed to have stopped though, and except for the odd explosion and the crackle and snap of flames near and far there was an eerie, waiting quiet. The street was empty of people, probably inside their homes or some shelter, trying to stay safe, trying their phones, lighting candles, telling stories to their kids and waiting for the power to come on again like it did after every other blackout. Waiting for sirens, for the police and ambulances, for the fire trucks to go help the fallen. Good citizens waiting for things to go back to normal, for someone to light the way.

Even the dogs had stopped howling.

Bass stared down at her, the rust coloured moonlight turning his eyes to deep violet wells that she could drown in. 'Miles said to wait for him here, and unless the power comes back on it'll take him a while to get here depending on where he ended up. So first we need to do an inventory of what we've got, work out what we need and get some supplies in.' He glanced outside then back at her. 'We'll need weapons too, for when things get ugly. Miles has a locker in the basement, I'll check it out later.'

She nodded, 'I'll look at what food and other supplies we've got.' She hesitated, then looked up, 'maybe we should go get him?'

He looked back at her and shook his head. 'Nah, this is Miles… We'd never find him. He'll stay with the car until he's sure the power isn't going on again, then he'll get here any way he can, as fast as he can.'

'So, we're on our own till he gets here?'

'Better off that way, Charlie. This is the DoD we're dealing with remember? We don't know how many of them are involved, hell, they could have people everywhere, even here. We can't trust the cops or the military.' He took her shoulders again, his eyes such an intense blue they seemed to shimmer. 'I know the guys in my unit, and I trust them, but they're a thousand miles away so I vote we wait for Miles, get prepared and keep our eyes and ears open for anyone coming after you and that thing.' He nodded at the pendant, 'because sooner or later they'll figure out that you came here and come after it. I guarantee that.'

She stared back for a long moment. 'You don't think the power will come back on again do you?'

He shrugged. 'I hope I'm wrong, Charlie. If I am and it was an accident, then maybe your folks'll work out a way to fix it.' His eyes narrowed, 'but if I'm right and by the way the DoD treated you I think I am, then they'll want the power off for as long as possible, get people desperate enough and scared enough so they can just waltz in and be the solution.' He let go of her, reaching up to brush his hair back from his face, the dust in the air making his eyes glow. 'Now, it sounds like its stopped raining planes so let's go have a look around, see if we can help out.'

She nodded, glad at the thought of doing something constructive. 'Yeah. Ok. Miles has a couple of bikes in the back, it'll be a whole lot quicker than walking. I'll go get them.' She turned and took a step outside into the night, her hair blown into a tangle by the wind and backlit to blood red by the fires.

There was a sound high above them. 'Shit. Charlie wait…' Bass grabbed her arm and yanked her back inside as something screamed over their heads and crashed to earth a couple of houses away, sending shards of tumbling, flaming wreckage flying into the trees and cars along the road. One big piece whirled through the front fence, gouged deep trenches into the lawn then bounced off again just missing the porch. He held an arm up, blocking the way out. 'We can get the bikes later. Right now? We stay here.'

She straightened up, brushing her arms and ass off where she'd fallen against the dusty wall, irritated that he'd thought she needed protecting and embarrassed because she did. She had to admit she was impressed though. He'd moved faster than anyone she'd ever seen. 'You think?'

He looked down at her and lifted an eyebrow. 'Yeah. I think.

She slanted a glance up at him. As well as being totally hot and her secret wet dream, he looked every inch a capable, absolutely in control of things marine which wasn't a bad thing at all considering the situation. If she had to be trapped in the middle of the apocalypse, at least it was with Bass Monroe. If things had fallen apart while she was still hitching rides across the map, it would've been a problem. One dickbrain in particular had only stopped trying to grope her after she showed him the pointy end of her knife.

She sent Bass a warning glare anyway. 'I can take care of myself, Bass. So don't think you can order me around like one of your troops, ok?'

His eyes stayed on hers, a very male appreciation gleaming in the blue, his scruff almost hiding a hint of a smile. 'Wouldn't dream of it.'

…..

Somewhere outside of Denver, Colorado.

The big black Oshkosh LATV purred down a steeply curving mountain road, its powerful electric engine making light work of the gradient, the pendant that powered it winking from a mount in the centre of the dash. Three other identical vehicles followed in a glossy, sinister convoy that curved like a fast moving snake down the mountain. All four ATV's had the same discreet eye in a triangle decal on the doors, all were bristling with state of the art weapons and tech.

The driver of the first vehicle flicked the autopilot on then slanted his gaze to the rear vision mirror and the passenger riding in the back seat. 'May I ask where we're headed, sir?'

Randall Flynn snapped his tablet shut, settled back into the comfortable, soft leather and poured himself a shot of a rare, boutique single malt, sipping with obvious appreciation. 'You may, Major Strausser.' He smiled as he gazed out the reinforced window, his eyes following an eagle soaring high over the valley below them. 'We're going to Chicago.'

…

AN: Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it J This story has me lying awake at nights planning the next bit so I'm hoping to have the next chapter ready to go sometime soon. Oh, and there will be Charloe soon too… Hope to see you there, cheers, Magpie.


	3. Chapter 3

Rebel, chapter 3

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Thank you so much for coming back and for some lovely comments. This is an ongoing birthday present for LemonSupreme, and it's going to be ongoing for another few chapters i think lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, things are hotting up a bit (although not as hot as they're going to get ;) ), cheers, Magpie

…..

Chicago. The night of the Blackout.

Once they were sure the planes had stopped falling, Charlie and Bass headed out into the night on two of the mountain bikes Miles had in the shed. They found people everywhere, wandering about, talking to neighbours or huddled in groups on street corners carrying candles and oil lamps, waiting for the sirens, for police and fire trucks.

Waiting for someone to do something.

Charlie watched, increasingly impressed as Bass talked to them, first joining in the talk and the speculation then asking for volunteers to help search for survivors while they all waited for the power to go back on, his easy charm and confidence winning them around with little apparent effort. The fact that he was a Marine didn't hurt any either and soon there were thirty something men and women in their group with more joining them at each street corner as word spread.

She talked to some of them as she walked along pushing her bike. Everyone seemed glad to have something to do and the hum of animated conversation along with the tramp of feet on pavement surrounded her, almost loud enough to drown out the distant crackle of flames and the occasional explosion and clatter of metal in disintegrating buildings.

Five planes had hit the ground in the area around them, destroying block after block, reducing them to piles of flaming rubble and the night air was heavy with smoke, the sky tinged orange and red above the fires. What was missing were the street lights and the lambent glow of the city and where the sky was clear the stars were brighter than she'd ever seen them. The moon a huge, golden disc.

She and Bass went from crash site to crash site organizing teams of people to start putting fires out and others to search for survivors in the wreckage of planes and homes, but as they rode back to the first site to check on how things were going, she realised that from the time they left the house he hadn't left her side. Not once.

She didn't mind at first, in fact it was kind of sweet. But when he insisted on standing guard outside of the central park toilet block while she was inside doing what she had to, it started to feel more than a little bit like she was being smothered. Then, when she came out and nearly fell over him because he was standing right by the door she finally blew up and confronted him. 'Bass. Really?'

He just unfolded his arms, stood up from the wall he'd been leaning on and looked at her. 'You're my priority here, Charlie, don't forget that.' He waved a hand at the work crews fighting the fire down the road with buckets passed hand to hand from the duck pond in the park. 'These people aren't. I'll do what needs to be done for them just so long as it doesn't interfere with that priority.' His hands came down on her shoulders and he leaned down, gazing deep into her eyes. 'Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch, ok?' He obviously meant to be reassuring, but she felt like she was in a movie…

Shit. She stared right back up at him, 'Don't go all marine on me, Bass. I can look after myself.' She tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he was too strong. 'You are not responsible for me.'

He let go of her but leaned in closer, his face cast by the moonlight into tight, frowning lines and angles. 'I disagree. Miles isn't here. I am. So yes, I am responsible for you. At least until he gets here.'

Her heart fell into her boots, dull disappointment and a weird kind of rage taking its place. So she was a duty? And what would he do when Miles got here, give him a fucking progress report? She could hardly breathe she was so angry, her eyes spitting blue sparks, hands clenched at her sides. She got right up close, staring up at him. 'You're delusional. I didn't come here to be looked after.' Her voice came out harsh and full of hurt pride. She could hear it, and right then she didn't care if he heard it too.

'Then why did you come?' He was angry now too, the blue eyes glittering, 'you could've started your fucking revolution anywhere.'

She glared up at him. 'I came to ask Miles to help me stop the DoD and my parents, and when I found you, I was hoping you'd help me too. But I guess I'll go do it on my own.' She brushed past him, calling back over her shoulder. 'I'm going back to the house. I'll be gone before you get back.'

He sucked in a breath, swore then took a step, reached out and grabbed her arm, swinging her round and back against the wall of the block ignoring her struggles and glare, holding her with easy strength. 'Charlie, wait a minute, you gotta be smart about this. I don't want you to leave. The world's fucking falling apart and you'd never make it on your own. You know it.' He frowned, 'and I thought I was helping you.'

She glared down at his hand on her arm then back up at his face, her voice cold. 'Let go of me, Bass.'

He sucked in a breath and let go, taking a step back. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean for things to go like this. You're strong and smart and I'm sure you'd be perfectly ok under normal circumstances.' His voice was carefully calm. 'But none of this is fucking normal, Charlie, and you have gotten yourself mixed up with some very bad people. You need my help.'

She rolled her eyes. What if she didn't want his help? He was trying to be all reassuring and in charge marine again and she wasn't buying it. He didn't want to have to tell Miles that she'd been here and gone again. That was it. Hurt and disappointment made her stomach ache.

He stepped towards her again, charming, conciliatory. 'I'm just trying to look out for you, Charlie, that's all. Miles'd do the same thing.'

'I know, I know. I get it.' She leaned back against the wall and slumped. He was right and she knew it. Things were a long way from normal. The DoD must know she had the pendant by now. Sooner or later they'd figure out where she was and come after it and despite what she'd said, she was realistic enough to know that she couldn't fight them on her own. She was also stupid enough to wish that she was a priority for Bass for her own sake, not just because Miles would expect him to take care of her.

But he didn't have to know that.

He knew when she caved, of course he did. His voice was gentler now, more reasonable. Although she could feel the slight impatience behind it. She hated feeling like some kind of burden. She had to change that.

'It isn't just about me looking out for you, Charlie.' He pointed back at the fire, and the crowd gathered around it. 'The people down there are barely hanging on. If the power doesn't go back on soon, things are going to get very bad, very fast.' He was serious. 'We're better off staying together. We can watch each other's backs, look out for each other.' He stepped back but not far, glancing out into the night. There were shadowy figures off in the distance down the road, the shapes lumpy with loads, their movements fast, furtive. 'There, see? Down the road? It's already started.'

She looked. He was right about that too. While they were riding around she'd noticed more who were taking advantage of the situation to grab what they could and run, and most of them were carrying guns. She nodded and sighed a little. 'Alright, I'll stay,' then she stepped up close, right in his face, close enough that he could see she meant it. 'But give me some credit, Bass. I managed to make it all the way here without anyone's help, didn't I? I'm not some stupid kid. Stop treating me like one.'

He looked down at her for a long moment, seeing her as if it was the first time, his eyes and the mind behind them re-evaluating her, curiosity and something new gleaming there. His tongue darted out over those finely shaped lips, the blue eyes above them hot, intense even in the dark. 'No, you're not.' He leaned closer, his hands against the wall, framing her, his body close to hers and his voice low. 'So how would you like me to treat you, Charlotte?'

She stared up at him, her senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating male presence of him. His eyes were lazy, confident, slowly moving from her eyes down to her lips then back again, his attention totally focused on her. The crazy but increasingly likely thought crossed her mind that he was thinking about kissing her, his anger turned into something else entirely.

Her body flared into singing, throbbing life. She had wanted this for so long and anticipation made her belly tingle, heart pound and her clit pulse. It was so, so tempting to forget about everything else except him, to lose herself, give in and let him take charge of everything. He was used to it, was trained to do it...

But something inside her, maybe her combined Matheson and Porter stubbornness refused to let that happen. Instead she swallowed and stood up straight, pride narrowing her eyes into intense, blue slits. Then she reached up, pulled his head down and kissed him first, relishing the surprised intake of breath, delighting in the urgent, eager response of his lips on hers.

He laughed under his breath, a triumphant, satisfied sound and his hands slid around her waist, the fingers hard, strong, like metal bars against her ribs, his arms wrapping her in smooth, worn leather covered muscle.

Maybe it was reaction to everything that had happened, but this felt so right, so good, exactly what she needed after all the crap. She moved in closer, her breasts and belly mashed against his chest, her arms around his neck and one of her legs snaking between his, her thigh brushing the thickening bulge at his crotch, pressing in, feeling him getting harder, thicker. Her blood roared in her ears, need for more clutching at her so badly all she wanted was to rip all their clothes off so she could climb on top of him, feel him sink into her.

She slid her hands down over the smooth planes of his chest and the flat, muscle ridged stomach, her fingers finding his belt buckle without her really knowing how they got there, pulling at the leather. She caught her breath, somehow managing to stop herself going any further with an effort of will that left her trembling.

He groaned, muttering something encouraging. His lips were soft, warm, open against hers, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin around her mouth, sending tingling, tantalizing, sensations rocketing southwards, her lips and tongue meeting his in a sweet, hot tangle of flesh that went on for much, much longer than she'd intended.

Shit… Before she could change her mind, she tore her lips away, ducking under and out of his arms before he could move to stop her.

She stopped just out of reach and turned back, breathing hard, a smirk curving her lips when she saw the dazed look on his face, his eyes blown to black and the big, moonlit bulge between his legs. 'I want you to stop treating me like a helpless idiot, Bass. That's all.'

He met her gaze, amusement, frustration and a dawning respect on his face. 'Ok. You got it.'

She took another step away, looking back over her shoulder. 'So, are you coming, marine?'

He looked up at her from where his hands were busy rearranging his pants and choked off a kind of groaning, growling laugh, an eyebrow quirking. 'Fuck you, Mini Miles.'

She waved, smiling brightly, 'fuck you too.'

He chuckled, stood back up and followed, raising his voice to make sure she could hear. 'Hey, when this is over, do you want to go on a date?'

She gave him the bird over her shoulder and kept walking, but the grin on her face wouldn't quit and suddenly she felt a whole hell of a lot better.

…

But there wasn't much to smile about after that.

The fires were still raging, spreading. There wasn't enough water pressure or open water, the hoses weren't long enough and the fires were too big. They had to leave them to burn.

As many survivors as possible were evacuated to the town hall where a refugee centre had been set up. The injured were transported on trailers pulled by bikes to a clinic hastily put together in the scout hall by a couple of off-duty nurses and a doctor who happened to live in the neighbourhood. Any bodies the searchers were able to recover were taken to the small funeral parlor, for the short term anyway, until they could work out what to do with them. A Rabbi working with one of the groups volunteered to sit with the dead and make lists to help identify them later. Charlie hadn't found out his name yet, but she was glad he was doing it, it seemed like the right thing to do.

When they got back to the house sometime before dawn, she hurt all over, exhaustion was making it hard to concentrate but all she think about anyway was the waste of it all, the death and hurt rained down on everyone. A burgeoning anger against the DoD and her parents was a weight on her chest, making it even harder to breath the smoke filled air.

Between them they made sure the house was locked up and secure because the number of looters was rising as the blackout went on. Neither of them said much though. Words needed energy.

The first rays of sunlight were coming in through the window as they finished locking the last window and Bass caught her arm, his blue eyes red rimmed with the smoke and long hours awake. 'Hey, Charlie. You did good work tonight.'

She looked up at him and nodded, too tired to think of anything smart to say. 'You did too.'

The corners of his mouth twitched just a little. 'Ok, we both did.' He held onto her arm, eyes concerned as he looked down at her. 'Are you ok?'

She nodded, keeping her eyes down because they'd filled with hot tears and she couldn't seem to stop them. 'It's bad enough here, Bass. It has to be a whole lot worse in the city, maybe the rest of the world.' She shook her head, the horrors of the night going over and over in her mind. 'And my parents were the ones who did it.' Knowing that made everything worse. And how the hell was she going to fix everything with one little pendant?

'Don't beat yourself up about your folks.' He pulled her into a hug, chin resting on the top of her head, his arms around her shoulders. 'You're not them, and at least you're doing something to help.'

She nodded, letting him hold her, welcoming it. She hadn't realised until that moment how much she needed the human contact, the reassurance that not everything was death and destruction. She leaned in close, wrapping her arms around his waist, her head falling onto his shoulder. He was big and strong and the leather of his jacket was warm and comforting against her skin even though it smelled of smoke like everything else. Her breath flowed out in a long, shuddering sigh and she closed her eyes, grateful for the warmth and the comfort, floating off into a kind of warm, euphoric doze.

After a little while he stroked her hair, letting her go, his hands holding her steady. 'Come on. You're falling down tired. Go get some sleep.'

She nodded, although a big part of her really didn't want to be alone, wanted to curl up with him. Just to sleep. She didn't think either of them had the energy to think of anything else right now. 'Yeah, ok'. Since the thing at the toilet block he'd been a perfect gentleman, something she was definitely going to work at changing later. When her eyes stayed open on their own.

She stumbled off into Miles' room, not bothering to get undressed, just falling onto the big, soft bed, wrapping herself in the dark blue, masculine duvet. The scent of aftershave and tobacco lingered on it, and on the pillow, familiar, comforting, breaking through the funk and reminding her of better times. She breathed it in, wondering where he was, hoping he was ok.

Bass lay in his own bed staring at the ceiling and thinking the same thing but also thinking about the girl, no, not the girl, the woman in the next room. And that kiss.

He'd had to rethink his strategy. Charlotte Matheson was well and truly a chip of the old Matheson block and he wouldn't underestimate her again. She'd had the balls to stand up to her mom and the DoD, and she'd certainly made him stand to fucking attention back at that toilet block. He grinned, she'd made him come to attention in more ways than one. But what she'd done tonight had impressed him even more. Working harder than anyone, she'd lifted and carried and dug with her bare hands if she had to and had kept going way longer than he'd expected of a pampered university kid. She'd been strong and cool in a very bad situation and damned if they hadn't made a good team. She was so like Miles it was crazy. A gorgeous, female version of Miles. A mini Miles…

He closed his eyes, and despite the ache of the healing bullet wound in his shoulder, exacerbated by everything he'd done today, exhaustion brought waves of sleep rolling in.

He held them back for just a few more moments.

Before tonight, Charlie had just been Miles' niece, special to him because she was special to Miles, but a responsibility he hadn't counted on and when she'd turned up out of the blue, he'd been a little irritated because, hey, fishing. But that was before he heard her story. Before the blackout. And before he'd gotten to know her better. He grinned, his hand drifting down to his restless cock, fingers gripping, stroking although he didn't really have the energy even for that...

He let himself drift off, thinking of sweet, soft lips, long, dark honey blond hair, an athletic, sweetly curvy body and blue eyes blazing with pure Matheson spirit.

His breath caught as his fingers moved faster, harder…

Miles was going to kill him for sure and he didn't give a fuck.

…..

The next morning the fires had mostly burned themselves out but smoke hung heavy like dirty clouds over the town and the city in the distance.

It was quiet, eerie, no hum of traffic, no sirens, no music…

Over the day as the blackout went on and on, people came out and set up fire pits and barbeques on lawns and in parks, using up perishables, bringing food and drinks to share with neighbours. It was almost like a party or a festival. Someone even brought out a guitar.

Charlie sat in a camp chair near one of the fires with an almost cold beer and a steak sandwich, watching Bass do the rounds, chatting, smiling, finding out people's names and making everyone feel like things were ok, under control. He was very good at it. The fact that he was also very charming and almost impossibly good looking had nothing to do with it. Yeah, right.

She chuckled, finished the sandwich and sucked on her beer. He knew she was watching him of course and glanced over, his eyes bright blue in the late afternoon sun, waving her to come join him. He didn't treat her like a burden anymore, instead he included her in planning, asked her opinion, treated her like a partner, an equal. He still stayed close but not as much as before. She'd felt his eyes on her though, hot enough to burn, and she was sure he knew she was feeling the same. The tension between them was getting to be something she could taste.

It was like a kind of unspoken agreement between them, get the job done, the immediate threat dealt with. Then all bets were off.

For now though, she waved and smiled. Time to do her bit for the cause. It was the least she could do considering her family were the ones who caused all of this. She drained her long neck and glanced over at Bass. He had one eye on her but was back talking to the family gathered around him like ducklings round their mom.

She smiled a little and got up. He was way better at this than she was and he never seemed to get tired of talking to people. He'd managed to keep everyone working together while they waited until the authorities arrived to take over.

If they ever came. There'd been no sign of anyone yet.

She looked around. Miles' neighbourhood was quiet, suburban, a haven for professional retirees and folks looking for a tree change. A few reservists, ex-military and retired cops lived there though and with Bass taking the lead they'd formed more teams and really got organised.

Already there was a base of operations in the local arts centre, a transport and communications network using bikes from the local sports shop. The camping shop had opened its doors too and tents, sleeping bags and cooking equipment had been distributed where they were needed, although a lot of folks had their own. There was also a militia of sorts to deal with anyone who felt like being antisocial and doing a little looting or B&E with the bank vault making a handy holding cell, and a couple of retired teachers had been busy compiling inventories of supplies.

Everyone had a theory about what had happened but without the net, phones, tv, radio, or word from anyone outside, no one knew anything for sure except that nothing worked. Charlie had stayed quiet about her folks, the DoD and the pendant, she and Bass had agreed on that. They'd managed ok without power so far, and the fewer people who knew the better.

If the blackout kept going, if her parents didn't work out a way to get the power back on, there'd be a time coming when she'd need to use it. That was one thing she was sure of.

For now though, life went on, sort of, and people were mostly calm, making the best of things. She was proud to be one of them.

And as she walked over to join Bass she was grateful for one thing. For as long as she could remember, he'd been like an exotic, beautiful dream, out of reach.

Now he was real.

….

Three days after the blackout. Evening.

Charlie lit the hurricane lamp, put some water on the camp stove to boil along with a couple of random cans of soup from Miles' stores in another pot and collapsed onto the sofa bed they'd set up along the kitchen wall to save on fuel and candles, every muscle in her body aching. She was so tired the air felt thick and heavy, every move an effort. All she wanted to do was sleep, but the bitter smell and taste of disaster was in her mouth and images of broken things, broken people, death and destruction were going round and round in her head like scenes from a horror vid.

Today, they'd started burning the bodies. The risk of disease was too great to wait any longer. They were using the big furnace at the brick works on the edge of town and it was going full time. Smoke rose into the sky like a finger pointing at the moon.

Grief and a profound anger at the DoD and her parents was a weight at the back of her neck, her jaw, a pile of stones in her belly. She wondered if they knew what they'd done.

She jerked awake as the door opened.

'Sorry I'm late. Is there enough gas left for coffee in the morning?' Bass strode in, his footsteps echoing on the bare boards of the floor.

'Yeah, but then we're out.'

'Thought so.' He threw his pack on the table, went to the stove and turned the soup off, pouring it into a couple of Miles' king size Chicago Bulls mugs and pulling a couple of spoons from the drainer by the sink. Walking over to the couch, he put the mugs and spoons on the coffee table in front of it then flopped down next to Charlie, stretching his long legs out in front of him with a sigh of relief. He used a foot to prise one boot off, then the other and slumped back, eyes closed.

Charlie twisted a little and lifted her leg, crossing one foot over her knee and pulling at her own boot, struggling with the thick leather straps. 'We're out of bottled water too, and unless Miles has a secret store somewhere, we've got food for another few days, then that's it.'

He opened his eyes to slits and reached down, grabbing her foot. 'Here, let me.' He undid the buckles on her boot, pulled it off and tossed it on the floor next to his then beckoned for her to give him the other one. 'Some of the guys are planning a trip out to the mall tomorrow for supplies, I said I'd go, ride shotgun.'

She lifted her other leg up. 'If you go, I'm going too.'

He undid the buckles on that one and yanked the boot off with easy strength. 'It could be dangerous, Charlie. There's talk of gangs out there, packs of dogs, who knows what else.'

'Thanks, but I don't care. How are we getting the stuff back?' She groaned with relief, wriggling her toes.

'Thought you'd say that, but I didn't want to speak for you.' He reached down and took her foot between his hands, his thumbs working the sole and ball, his long fingers massaging the fine arch and the top of her toes.

She groaned and almost came in her pants it felt so good. She held up her other foot for attention. 'We're partners, we stick together.'

'Wouldn't have it any other way.' Then he grinned, 'would you believe we've got horses and a couple of wagons? There's a retro farm a couple of miles out of town, folks came in to see what was going on. They've got all that kind of stuff.' He put her foot down and reached for the mugs, handing one to her and keeping one for himself. 'Can you ride?'

She nodded and blew on a spoonful of soup, her stomach growling. 'My grandparents had friends with horses, I used to ride when we visited them, I even drove the sulky a couple of times.'

'In Texas?'

She nodded, 'Willougby.' Then she jumped, startled, almost spilling soup on herself as the pendant around her neck made a sound, the power symbol lighting up.

Above their heads, the light flickered on.

…

'Sir, will we be leaving soon?'

Randall Flynn typed, his fingers a little slow, uncertain, his pendant alight around his neck. 'Never was much good with keyboards or computers' He tapped 'send' then sat back on his camp seat and cracked his knuckles. 'Soon, Major Strausser, very soon. Everything in its time. This is the dawn of a new world order after all. We must be patient.'

Strausser blinked very slowly, then made a non-committal noise. He was bored. They were not far from Chicago but Flynn had kept them waiting out in the middle of fucking suburban nowhere for hours now.

He really wanted to kill something. Or someone. His fingers stroked the blade of the knife lying naked in his lap, slowly, lovingly, over and over…

Randall didn't notice. He read the reply to his text and shook his head. 'Well now, isn't that just too bad. The President survived and the Vice president and the Secretary of State made it to Atlanta on horseback. How valiant.' He gazed up at the first stars of evening shining high above their camp site. Even with the sunset colours still on the horizon they were brighter than he'd ever seen them with no competition from city lights. His late wife had believed that the soul of their only son, fallen in the service of a nation that had lost its way, was shining as one of them. He blinked. That was nonsense of course. The only reality was here, now. The only truth the one he fought for.

He was a Patriot.

He gazed back at the message on his screen. Somehow the crew of Airforce one had managed a safe landing near Philadelphia. It was disappointing but he had planned for every contingency. The work and the necessary purge would continue.

A Nation divided unto itself cannot stand.

Randall keyed in a coded message and sent it to the command centre in the Tower. After that, he closed his tablet and sat, just breathing in the moment. What he had just done was for the future. A new future.

He looked up at the stars, waiting.

…

Somewhere on the road to Chicago, a few miles out of Indianapolis, Indiana, sunset.

It'd been three long days of going nowhere and waiting for his fucking brother to fix whatever it was he and Rachel had broken. But the power was still out, he'd just about run out of supplies and Miles had decided that it was time to leave. Lucky for him it had stopped raining.

He was about two hundred miles from Chicago and from the way the fires were still burning in the city behind him, he was glad he'd taken the backroads to avoid the cops. The highway would've been a nightmare of epic proportions with fucking civilians panicking everywhere.

After pushing the big sedan off the road just in case he was able to come back for her, he grabbed his backpack, map and phone from the front seat and the rest of his crap out of the trunk and locked up, putting the keys in his pocket. Then he stood there for a moment, regret deepening the lines between around his mouth and creasing his brow. Times had changed but this car hadn't and except for the adaption to juice, she was in prime original condition. A beautiful relic in these days of smooth, boring electric people movers, he'd had her for more than fifteen years.

As he turned and started walking, it felt like he was leaving a part of himself behind.

He'd got about a hundred yards down the road when the sudden glare of headlights from behind cast a shadow that made him look like Godzilla climbing the trees.

Finally. Yay Ben…

He turned back to return to the car when his eye was caught by the flash of something high in the sky going towards the east, a thin vapor trail drawing a thin sunset bright line against an indigo sky.

His blood ran cold when he saw another, and another, all heading east. ICBM's, he recognised the signature.

Fuck. He started running.

…

AN: Hi and thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it, more up soon J cheers, Magpie.


	4. Chapter 4

Rebel, chapter 4

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Thanks so much for coming back and I hope you enjoy this one J I'll have more up as soon as I can, cheers, Magpie xx

…..

Three days after the blackout. Miles' house in Chicago, evening.

The power was back on.

Bass was on his phone trying to reach Miles, growing increasingly frustrated. 'Dammit, the moron keeps trying to call me while I'm calling him.' He stopped and started texting instead, thumbs flying.

Charlie was checking the newsfeeds on her laptop using Bass' ID login – she hadn't bothered trying her own because she was blacklisted, her own ID useless but even if she hadn't been it would've been as good as broadcasting her location to the DoD and her parents, so no. In amongst all the bad there was some good news. 'The president's ok, Bass, she's in Philly, the pilots managed to land Airforce one.' She grinned, 'and the VP and the Secretary of state borrowed a couple of horses and rode into Atlanta after their plane crash landed on a stud farm.'

He looked up, 'yeah?' He chuckled, an eyebrow lifting, then went back to texting, 'they've got some good pilots.' He tapped send then glanced back at her, 'do you want to call your dad? Tell him you're ok?'

She shook her head but didn't look up from the screen. 'No.'

His eyes flickered but he nodded slowly, 'You're right, probably safer not to.'

She shrugged. To say she was conflicted about contacting her family was a massive understatement, then she froze, 'Bass?'

'Yeah?' his phone pinged and he looked down, 'it's Miles.' He frowned as he read the text, disbelief and shock warring in his eyes. 'You've got to be fucking kidding me.' He swung round, 'Charlie, are they saying anything about...' He stopped talking when he saw her face.

She was staring at the screen, eyes wide, horrified, 'Bass, what's happening?'

He dropped down behind her so he could see. The screen was split, one side labelled Philadelphia, the other Atlanta with flashing emergency warning banners scrolling underneath. Both images were the same. Twin mushroom clouds, spreading higher, rolling into the sky as they watched. Huge, ominous and surreal, horribly beautiful.

Then the screen went blank, and overhead the lights went out.

Charlie was blinded for a second, blinking while her eyes adjusted to the sudden dark, her heart pounding, Miles would've had to come through Atlanta. 'Where was he?' She swung round, 'was Miles anywhere near… them?' Her voice faltered, she didn't know much about nuclear bombs, how far away you had to be, just theory. Even when the war was at its worst, no one had dared use them because of the possibility of everyone using them.

Bass was standing behind her, her eyes gradually seeing him more clearly. His hands were wrapped round the back rail of her chair, gripping the wood so hard it was creaking, 'Indianapolis.' His voice sounded grim, harsh. 'He said he was just outside Indianapolis. He should be ok, but it depends on how big the nukes were and how many, whether they touched down or went off in the air. Shit, nukes...' He was breathing in a steady deep rhythm, as though he was counting through each one. 'All those people. Charlie, most of the guys from our unit were heading into Atlanta for the weekend, and if I hadn't come up to see Miles, I'd still be in Philly, cooked in my own skin along with everyone else.' He let go of the chair and stood up, hands running through his hair. 'They're gone. They're all gone.'

Charlie felt her stomach drop, most of his unit had been in Atlanta? And she'd totally forgotten that he had a house in Philly. He'd have friends there too, neighbours. They'd have kids, pets. 'Oh...' She lit the lamp sitting on the desk, turned to face him and sucked in a breath when she saw him in the light.

His eyes were like stones, the shadows sharp and his face hard edged, implacable. 'Charlie, we can't let these bastards get away with this.' He leaned in close. 'Think, it could be someone you've met, someone high up in the DoD, someone who could have got access to nuclear codes. Whoever it is, if they can turn the power off and on whenever they want and access nukes and the fuck knows what else, we have to stop them. We could be the only ones with any idea of what's going on. Everyone else is going to think it's a re-escalation of the war and if the power goes on again it could be world war fucking four.'

Horrified, Charlie was thinking back over every visitor her mom and dad had had that she'd been there to see, any conversations she'd heard, everyone she'd met from the lab, from the department, from anywhere else, 'Do you think that's what they want?'

He shrugged, breathing hard. 'Maybe. It could be that some people don't like the way the peace talks are going. But If they did, why stop at two targets? And without power no one knows who else has been hit do they? Hitting Philly and Atlanta doesn't make sense unless they wanted to get rid of the competition and scare the crap out of everyone else at the same time.' He ran a hand through his hair, the blond brown curls stiff with sweat and dust. 'Was there anything on the news feed about who's left in the chain of command?'

She shook her head, 'No, I don't think so, there wasn't time…'

He started pacing around the small space, making it seem even smaller, 'they'll have someone waiting in the wings who's going to march in to save the day. To be the hero. They create the problem and provide the solution.' He stopped pacing, hands gripping her shoulders, eyes so intense they burned. 'Charlie. It's a coup.'

She stared up at him, 'what?'

He leaned closer, 'think about it, your parents give the DoD a way to control the power, to turn it on and off. Then there's a blackout that happens just when a whole lot of world leaders are in the air, and then just when we find out some of them have survived, the cities where the President of the United States and some top brass turn up just happen to get fucking blown up. That's way too many coincidences.' His words were coming faster, like bullets,' Either we're being invaded or it's an inside job and if we were being invaded, there'd be some other sign of it, troops landing, more bombs, something.' He sounded definite now, 'so it has to be a coup, a takeover.'

A name floated to the top of her mind. 'Randall Flynn.'

'Who?' He stood straight again, restless, the air around him vibrating with energy and fury.

She nodded, almost certain. 'Randall Flynn, he's the assistant secretary to the DoD and my parent's boss since before the accident in 2012.' Her tongue dipped out over dry lips. 'There was one time last year? I'd just got home and he was leaving. I heard him say something about how well Danny was doing, but as he left my mom had this look in her eyes like she hated him.' She looked away, the memory coming clearer. 'And after that my mom and dad had a massive argument, my dad wanted us to leave, to stop their work but my mom wouldn't do it. She said they had to stay for Danny, that she couldn't lose him again.'

She hadn't understood at the time, but it made sense if Randall Flynn was using Danny to make her parents keep working for him.

He was silent for a moment, thinking. 'So what's with Danny? I knew he was a little fragile, but is it worse than that?'

Her eyes dropped. 'He was always sick, right from when he was little. His asthma was really bad, I used to lie awake at nights listening, just to make sure he was breathing. He almost died a hundred times and he was in hospital so often I knew everyone.' She frowned, 'then one day, just before the accident in the lab in 2012, Mom took him to this special clinic in Denver, and when he came back he was alright, no more asthma attacks, at least nothing like before.' Her eyes met his, 'then Randall Flynn came around to see him and my parents, saying he was happy to help and just wanted to be friends? He had this weird guy with him, some kind of doctor I think.' Her lip curled, 'kept staring at my mom. Creep.'

'And Danny's been ok since then?'

'Yeah.' She was angry with herself, for not thinking more of it at the time, for not putting it all together. 'But he has to go back to the clinic every couple of years for some kind of check-up.' Her eyes were stormy, 'I'm so stupid, I should have seen it before. It has to be about Danny. Mom'd do anything for Danny, anything.'

'Even end the world as we know it?' He was giving her the option to deny the unforgiveable.

She couldn't, because it felt like the truth. 'I think she'd do whatever she had to, and my dad wouldn't be able to stop her.'

For a moment he just looked at her, his eyes sympathetic. 'I'm sorry, Charlotte.'

She nodded, then blew out a breath. 'So what are we going to do?'

His face changed and suddenly he looked cold, dangerous. 'We're the only ones outside their little club who know about this right now, Charlie. The only ones who can do something. And I'm betting that this guy Flynn has sent people after you so we need to get ready for them.' He pointed at the pendant hanging round her neck, 'you said that yours had a bigger range than the others. It powered up the street light when you turned it on so that's about half a mile. Do you know the range of the others?'

She shook her head, 'no, not really, but it's a lot less, I know that.' she shrugged, 'maybe a few yards? They're the same in principal though, so they can all power anything electrical in range'

'A car? Or a truck? Maybe a helicopter?'

'I guess, as long as the pendant was in it,' she shrugged, 'maybe we should try it out? They probably already know where I am, so it won't matter, will it?'

He frowned, 'take it easy, I'm assuming they'll want you alive to keep your parents on side, but we don't know for sure. You got here in three days, so If they're able to power up some kind of transport they could be nearly on us by now and we wouldn't know. Does having more range give us an advantage? How close would they have to be to track you?' He pointed at the pendant, 'is there a way of using that to track them?'

She shrugged again and shook her head, 'I wouldn't know how,' she glanced at the laptop, 'maybe we could plug it in and turn it on? See what's on it? Dad and Aaron could've put anything on there.'

He looked hopeful for a moment, then, he shook his head. 'No. Better not, not yet anyway. If they haven't already worked out exactly where you are it'd be like lighting a beacon saying 'here I fucking am.'

Charlie stared up at him. 'So maybe I should go, lead them away from here? I mean, what if they send another bomb just to get to me? To make sure I can't do anything to stop them, hurt them.' The thought was terrifying, that all these people could die because of her. The world started spinning, her head hurting. Suddenly she needed to move, to do something, anything…

Bass took her arms again, leaning in close. 'Hey, hey. Take it easy, it's ok. If they were going to do that they'd have done it already wouldn't they? While the power was on? And if they kill you, they'd still have to explain it to your folks.'

She stared at him, her heart pounding. 'I hope you're right.'

He shrugged. 'So do I.' A wry smile curved his lips, 'but Miles should be here in about four days if he hurries, so while we're waiting, how about we work on getting some more soldiers for your revolution.' The smile disappeared, 'then when he gets here, we can find this Randall Flynn wherever he is and sort him out.'

There was a pounding knock on the door and Charlie jumped, 'are we expecting someone?'

Bass picked up the handgun he'd appropriated from Miles' collection and headed for the door, calling back over his shoulder, 'no, but I'm betting other people saw the news too.'

She nodded, picked up her own gun and followed, 'I'll cover you.'

He looked back and nodded, his eyes approving, then he opened the door.

Jim Hudson, one of the ex-military locals was standing on the step, almost vibrating with rage and tension, his rifle held ready in his hands. He and his wife owned the second hand bookshop and café in the square down the street but over the last few days he'd been organising the peace keepers for the town, leading a group of about a dozen men and women. Right now though, he looked far from peaceful. 'Did you see it? Did you see what the bastards did? Sophie had family in Atlanta, we were going to go see them for Thanksgiving.' His dark face was angry and sad at the same time, the emotions warring.

'Jim, Hi. Yes we saw.' Bass looked behind him but the man seemed to be alone, 'come in'.

Jim shook his head, 'no, thanks. I'm going to get the others and we'll do a quick door to door to make sure folks are ok. I'll organise an extra watch too in case anyone's thinking of doing something stupid.'

Bass nodded. 'Good thinking.'

'What if there are more bombs?'

He shrugged, 'powers out so we should be safe for now but even if it goes on again, there's nothing we can do to stop them from here, is there?'

The other man shook his head, 'I guess not.' He stared out into the night, there were faint sounds carried on the breeze, shouts, people talking, yelling, a baby screaming. 'The world's gone crazy, Bass. What can we do about any of this shit?'

Bass put his hand out and squeezed Jim's shoulder then let go. 'We keep on doing what we're doing, Jim. Looking out for each other, keeping our families safe. And at least we're a long way out of the city, less chance of being hit.'

Jim nodded, glancing up at him. 'Yeah. More chance of radiation though, I'd rather it was quick, myself.'

Bass looked out at the night, it was very quiet. The fires were mostly out, the trees were waving against the starry, moonlit sky, blown by a slight breeze that smelled clean, like grass and trees and forest. It felt like any other warm, late summer night.

Except it wasn't.

He turned back. 'We're a long way from Philly and Atlanta, Jim, should be safe from fallout here. But we can talk about it tomorrow, see if we can get some intel. Go get some rest if you can, we still need supplies so I figure we should head off at dawn as we planned.'

'Yeah, you're right.' Jim peered round at Charlie, who'd come up behind Bass, her gun on safety and pointing at the ground. 'Hi Charlie, how're you doing?' He looked a little embarrassed. 'Sorry, I didn't see you back there. That thing about more bombs? Don't worry about it, ok? We'll be just fine.'

She gave him a wave with her free hand, not quite sure what to say, but he seemed to need reassurance himself so she tried. 'Of course we will, we're doing ok so far, aren't we?'

He nodded again but a muscle twitched beside his mouth and his hands were tense on the gun. 'Yeah, thanks to you two. I'd better get going, I want to check on Sophie.' He glanced at Bass, 'she's scared. But I guess we're all scared. I'll see you both in the morning.' He turned and left.

Charlie watched as Bass shut and locked the door, throwing the bolt across with a metallic click. Then he stood facing the door for a long moment. She frowned, 'are you ok?'

He turned to face her, he looked tired, his usual vibrant energy faded. 'Yeah, just thinking about what it must be like back east.' He managed something like a smile, 'but we're still alive and fighting so we'd better get some sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.'

She knew she looked just as tired as he did, probably worse, her hair was stiff with smoke and dust and even though no one wanted to waste clean, drinkable water on something as trivial as washing, right now she'd happily trade her next meal for a hot shower. And Bass was right. Another bomb could drop and there was nothing they could do about it. They wouldn't even know.

The possibility of death, his, hers, everyone's, suddenly seemed very close. She reached out and put a hand on his arm, squeezed. 'Bass?'

He looked down at her, a question in his eyes.

'I… I don't want to be alone tonight. Could I came in with you?' There, she'd said it, and he hadn't turned away, or looked at her as though she was stupid, or crazy.

Instead he gazed at her for what felt like a long time, his eyes shadowed, shuttered, and when he did speak his words were careful, calm. 'Ok, I'd be glad of company myself. It'll be safer too.' He hesitated, 'being together I mean.'

She nodded, her heart pounding, 'yeah, safer…' It was like they were arranging an appointment they were both being so careful, so polite. But underneath all of that there was a tingling awareness, a promise of something deep and weighty, that sent ripples through the air like a stone thrown into a pond.

She turned and walked down the hall to the bathroom, the lamps they'd set shedding pools of light and casting fleeting shadows as she passed, feeling him behind her, his steps careful, light, as though he was trying not to spook her. .

Neither of them said anything, just made sure the house was secure, both of them falling into what had quickly become a routine division of chores…

When they finished and she got to the bathroom, Charlie was trembling all over, her hands shaking as she washed her face and brushed her teeth in a little boiled water, aware of him moving around in the kitchen, turning off the lamps. It was quiet. So quiet. She hadn't realised until now how many sounds were missing. The hum of traffic, planes coming in overhead, the sound of music and the jingle of ads on tv from houses around, children playing in yards, the squeal of trucks braking on the highway, ringtones, motorbikes... The little hairs on her arms were rippling as goose flesh rippled over her skin, each breath somehow taking an age. Even with the war going on people had tv's, phones, there was always music or something.

It was so damn quiet.

She looked at her reflection, a backlit and hazy silhouette in the lamplight. Her eyes were huge, gleaming beneath the shadows of her lashes, hair hanging in long, tangled and dusty waves around her bare shoulders, the mass of it almost hiding the straps of her tank top, glimmers of light catching the chain around her neck and the pendant hanging below the hollow at her throat. She looked like some hard, wild thing, far removed from the girl she was a few days ago.

She liked it. Somehow it felt right to be hard, good to be wild. It was what she needed to be. She hung her towel up on the rail, turned the lamp off and walked out.

He was waiting by the bedroom door, leaning on the door jamb, legs and arms crossed, watching her walk towards him. He looked tall, powerful. Beautiful. The lamplight threw shadows across his face, the vee of smooth flesh at his throat above his shirt, the long legs in worn jeans and the hard muscled forearms and fine hands. His feet were bare, fine boned and strong, like his hands. She liked them.

She walked up to him, her eyes holding his. It was like there were magnets pulling them together. She'd felt it for days, knew he had too, the thing between them growing stronger until it had to find a way out, a way to fulfil itself.

He didn't move as she got to him, but his tongue dipped out over his bottom lip and his eyes gleamed, 'you look like something out of one of my better dreams.' He reached out, a long finger brushing a strand of hair back over her ear, tracing the delicate curves and finding her sleeper. He flicked the little gold ring with his finger tip, his eyes very serious, 'but don't worry, you're safe with me, ok?'

She ran her hands up over the planes of his chest, over his pecs, the tiny nubs of nipples, the heat of his skin burning through the thin cloth of his shirt, feeling his sharp intake of breath. 'What if I don't want to be safe?'

He cleared his throat, 'Charlie, when things are bad, like now, people sometimes do things they regret later,' he pulled back a little, his fingers brushing her neck, 'and the last thing I want is for you sleep with me tonight and regret it in the morning, so let's talk about it, ok?'

She narrowed her eyes, glinting up at him and moved closer. 'Believe me, the last thing I want to do is talk.' Her breasts were brushing the front of his shirt, the friction on her nipples making them hard, visible through the fabric of her tank. 'What I want is to forget about everything for a while. Don't you?' She slanted a grin up at him, 'and don't worry, Miles won't ever know, unless you tell him.'

He choked off a laugh and looked down at her, his eyes burning, 'Charlotte, right now I couldn't care less about Miles.'

Her fingers brushed his nipples again, her grin widening as he sucked in a breath, 'that's not what you said when you were naked in the kitchen,' her tongue flickered out over her full lower lip, and ran her knee up the inside of one of his long, hard thighs. 'You said, and I quote, "Miles is going to kill me" unquote.' She found the unmistakeably growing bulge between his legs, pressing gently, 'but don't worry, I won't let him.' Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips then pulled back, 'and by the way, in the kitchen that first night? That little towel didn't hide much.'

He did laugh this time, a long finger tracing the edge of her cheek and sliding down the fine lines of her neck to the hem of her tank over her breast, sliding underneath. 'I can handle Miles.' He leaned forward and kissed her, 'and there wasn't much point trying to grab another towel, you'd seen everything there was to see by then.' He pulled the fabric out towards him, peering underneath, 'which reminds me, you're way ahead of me on that one.'

'I can fix that,' her hand snaked down to join her knee, brushing over the straining zipper of his pants, her fingers wrapping around the thick, pulsing column of his cock through the fabric. 'I can fix this too…'

He groaned and chuckled, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into his room, 'do you always get what you want, Charlie?'

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down so she could reach to kiss him, 'almost always.'

…..

Through long habit, Bass woke to the pre-dawn chorus of early birds outside the window, the sky just starting to lighten up at the horizon. He looked down at the mass of curling waves spreading over his shoulders and chest.

The unmistakeable sound of a snore came from somewhere under the hair.

Charlie was draped across his arm, asleep on her stomach next to him, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Her long eyelashes were dark halfmoons on her cheeks and her full, kiss swollen lips slightly open, her breath stirring the strands of hair that lay over them. One of her arms was draped over his chest, a slim, elegant leg was stretched between his longer ones and the soft, wet curls of her pussy and the sweet tasting folds hidden inside them were pressed to his thigh. The thick, spicy smell of sex and sweat filled the bedroom and he sucked it in, savouring it, the taste of her still on his tongue.

She was something else, and now she was under his skin, burrowed deep inside his soul.

He smiled, running the fingers of his free hand over her hair, enjoying the softness against his skin, remembering how her hair had surrounded him like a shimmering curtain while she rode him. Her slim, strong legs had been bent on either side of his torso, her hands on his chest and her tight pussy like a hot, wet, muscular glove stroking his cock, sliding up and down just before he'd flipped her over onto her back, her knees slung over his shoulders as he drove into her in one of the best fucks of his life.

He remembered the feel of his cock buried deep inside that luscious body, his balls hitting her the cushioned curves of her ass at each thrust, her cries as she came… He hardened up again as he thought of it, his cock rising against the curve of her thigh.

The snoring stopped, her eyes opening to find his and her hand sliding down his chest and over his belly until she found his dick, her fingers wrapping around him, stroking him, the ball of her thumb finding the spot just under the helmet ridge that she'd found made him turn to putty during the night.

He sucked in a breath…

'Hey there.' Her eyes were soft and sated but behind the hazy blue was all the dare and challenge that was so much a part of her, 'have we got time to do it again?'

….

On a ridge above the town.

'Looks like a nice little place doesn't it, Major Strausser?' Randall Flynn looked pleased, 'there's minimal damage and disruption compared to others we've seen and plenty of signs of organisation and even adaption to their new way of life.' He smiled, 'it makes me proud to be American.'

Will Strausser shrugged, lowering the night glasses. 'If you say so, sir.' He glanced back at the others. The men were ready to move out on foot, the vehicles hidden in the trees. 'Do we have a location?'

Flynn lowered his own glasses and touched the pendant hanging round his neck. 'We'll be doing this the old fashioned way, Major. I don't want to scare the girl into running again, and she will if I use this.' He patted the pendant then let go and raised the glasses. 'It's likely that she's in her uncle's house, and that she's with Monroe. We know that Miles Matheson isn't there which is one less problem for us, but even on his own, Monroe has a reputation as a formidable soldier and it looks like he's got some of the others in the town organised too. So we'll watch from a distance and wait for the right opportunity. I need you to take her alive.'

'And the others?'

Flynn shrugged. 'I don't care about the others, only her.'

Strausser smiled.

…


	5. Chapter 5

Rebel, chapter 5

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Hi again, and thanks so much for hanging in there for this story. I'm kind of cruising along a bit here, seeing where the story takes me and I'm glad you're along for this ongoing happy birthday ride for Charloe champion, LemonSupreme. Thanks for some lovely comments too, they're like supercharged writing fuel J Oh, and all the best for your studies Kittycat40, I hope this helps you keep rolling along lol! Cheers, Magpie J

Chicago, just before dawn.

Charlie woke to the feel of a hand stroking her hair, a warm hard body under hers and something long, hard and now very familiar digging into her thigh. She reached down and found him, the skin soft, velvety over hard flesh.

Her fingers curled round the thick column, stroking up and down, feeling the pulse of blood in the big veins making him harder and she glanced up through her hair, meeting the brilliant, lazy blue of his eyes. It was amazing how bright they were, even in the dark. She licked her lips, tasting him still there. Being with Bass last night had made the horror of the past few days seem like a bad dream and she didn't want it to end. 'Have we got time for one more?'

Bass reached down and flipped her so she was underneath him, folding one of her legs over his shoulder, one hand braced against the bed to take most of his weight and his eyes gleaming down at her like deep blue pools. 'You're reading my mail. But dawn's coming,' He grinned, angling his hips and legs between her thighs, spreading her out wider, his softly furred balls brushing her thighs, his voice low, amused. 'It'll have to be a quick one.'

'Quick's fine with me.' She curled her hips, wrapping her other leg around his waist, her skin buzzing from the friction. His body was rough with hair and hard muscle and he felt big and hot and heavy in all the right ways. The head of his cock brushed her pussy, slipping and sliding up and down through the wet folds and she gasped, her back arching, hips angling up to meet him, her other leg slamming round his waist, her toes finding the springy flesh of his ass cheeks, wriggling in, her big toe finding the pucker between them and pushing in just a little...

He jumped then laughed low in his throat, rubbing the smooth, ridged helmet against her with his free hand, slipping inside just a little then out again, teasing, his tongue flicking out over his lips. 'You want to play, Charlotte? How about a little bet.' His eyes were wicked blue, 'First one to the finish line makes the coffee.' He pushed into her a little, the friction making them both shiver then pulled out and did it again and again, his thumb catching her clit on the way, circling, flicking, dancing on the sensitized nub, his eyes holding hers, full of dark, laughing intent. 'And I don't think it's gonna be me.'

Charlie's eyes flew wide, sucking in a breath as bright shards of pleasure pierced her belly. 'Bastard...' Then she gasped again as he surged inside, his cock thrusting all the way, filling her to the max, her hands frantically reaching up for the bars of the bedhead, gripping and holding on for dear life as she met him, thrust for thrust, stroke for stroke, the heavy strength of him pushing her up the bed and the pounding beat of a sweet, sweet, pulse galloping orgasm rocketing along her spine.

She tried to hang on, because damn it, she didn't like losing at anything, but it happened anyway and she screamed out his name as she fell over the edge.

….

Dawn was a pale, glimmering band along the horizon as they walked out of town on the way to the rendezvous, buildings giving way to neat fields and pasture. The road was narrow and lined with oaks and shrubbery along with abandoned cars, trucks and the occasional boat on a trailer. There were motorhomes too, most of them occupied and set up for the duration. The one they were passing had a line of washing hanging from a tree, a picnic table by the door and a duet of snores coming out of the window.

For a moment, Charlie envied them their innocence. They had no idea of what was actually happening to their world. Her hand crept to the pendant around her neck.

'Hey, you sure you're up to this, Charlie?' The voice came from behind her. Jim.

She turned, wincing a little as her thighs and hips protested the movement and forced a smile. 'I'm fine, thanks.' She glanced up at Bass, who was walking on the road beside her, carefully eyes front and wished she could wipe the smug look off his face. 'It's been a long few days.' She told her aching lower half to shut up and kept walking.

The big man glanced from her to Bass, a dark eyebrow lifting and a little frown line appearing between his brows. 'If it gets crowded over there when Miles gets back, Charlie, you'd be welcome to come stay with me and Sophie. We've got plenty of room.'

Bass turned to her, the smug look replaced by a strange vulnerability, 'Charlie?' There was a question in his eyes.

Charlie met his gaze for a long moment, the reality of what was happening between them suddenly hitting her. Last night had been more than just a fuck. A lot more. There'd been tenderness and sweetness, trust as well as passion. They'd found things to laugh about, things to share, taken comfort in each other. She had no idea what the future held for them, for any of them come to that, but last night had meant something, that was for sure. She smiled, her eyes clinging his for a bit longer, just because she could…

Then she took a deep breath and turned to Jim. 'Thanks, but we'll be fine.'

Bass looked relieved, then the smug came back.

She nudged him with her elbow, hard. 'Don't get too happy, I could always change my mind if you keep making me brew the coffee.'

He rubbed his ribs and grinned down at her, an eyebrow quirking, 'next time It'll be breakfast too.'

She glinted back at him, 'don't count on it, soldier. It won't be so easy next time.' She'd make sure of that. Then she got lost in those eyes again because there were so many dark promises in the blue depths that her belly was doing flip flops in anticipation.

Jim had been watching them and shook his head, amused now. 'Ok. Now I'm sorry for Miles. you can tell him that when he gets tired of you two making eyes at each other he's welcome to come over for some adult company.'

'What makes you think Miles is an adult? He's gonna knock me into next week when he finds out, then he'll be ok.' Bass grinned, tore his eyes away from Charlie then pointed up the road. 'There, the wagons should be just over the bridge.'

Charlie looked. The bridge was old, its smooth brick and steel curving over the water with the river a shining ribbon fading off into a tree lined distance in each direction. A little way down the road on the other side she could just make out three shapes under the trees. They looked like pioneer wagons complete with rolled canvas tops, each hitched to a pair of fine, long maned black horses, stamping and restless in the morning mist. 'It looks like a scene from a movie.'

Jim shaded his eyes against the bright rising sun. 'Yeah, it sure is pretty, but I'd give my eyeteeth for a working semi-trailer.' He shrugged, 'or better still, to wake up and find this is all a bad fucking dream.' Then he huffed, refocused and had another look. 'Good, the others are there,' He waved, a proud smile curving his lips. 'There's Pete, and the Murphy twins.' The smile got wider. 'We're lucky to have the girls along. Pete's good too of course, the big lug, but even retired the Murphy's are something else.'

Bass nodded, 'yeah, I always thought WWA fighters were mostly faking it until I saw those two in action.'

Charlie looked at the two women, slightly envious of the muscles, badass tatts and long rainbow dreads. They looked and were very tough. Pete was no slouch either, she'd seen him lift things it'd take three other people to heft. 'Is anyone else coming?'

He shook his head, 'just Pol and her two sons to drive the teams.' He nodded at the dim figures standing at the horse's heads. 'Too many of us and there'd be no room for supplies.'

Jim patted the rifle over his shoulder and the handguns strapped to his hip. 'We'll be fine, between us we should be able to handle anything.'

….

Strausser put his field glasses down, a little smile playing on his lips. 'Shall I give the order to move in now, sir?'

Flynn shook his head. 'Not yet, Major. We don't want the towns people to think we're the enemy, do we?' He got up and brushed himself down, 'I'm assuming they're going to obtain supplies from that huge abomination of a shopping complex we passed a few miles back.' He folded his own glasses and put them away in his pack. 'So in my capacity as acting director of the DoD, I am hereby declaring Martial law, and as looting is a crime under martial law and as we are the only available representatives of the legitimate government, we can arrest them for doing it.'

Strausser stood too. 'And if they fight back?'

Flynn shrugged, 'then under martial law we can shoot them, all except...'

'Except for the girl. Yeah, I know.' Strausser's hand was on the knife at his belt, fingers caressing the hilt. 'She's a peach.'

Flynn glanced at him, his eyes hard. 'I chose you because I need results, Major, but that doesn't mean I like your methods.' A faint look of distaste crossed the thin features. 'The girl and her brother are vital to the success of our plans. They are my leverage to keep their parents compliant, so you will follow my orders and make absolutely sure she is unharmed. Is that understood?'

Strausser lifted the glasses to his eyes again, a cold smile playing at the corners of his mouth, 'yes, sir.'

Flynn nodded, turning away without seeing the smile. 'Good. We'll follow them to the mall and retrieve the girl and the pendant there. There might be others there looking for food and supplies so we'll need to do this properly. I don't want witnesses.' He turned towards where the troops were waiting under the trees, ready to head off. 'Remember, we're the heroes. We're going to make this country into the world leader it should be.' He paused. 'Oh, by the way, is there any news of Miles Matheson?'

Strausser shook his head. 'Our agents found his car abandoned outside Indianapolis but there's been no sightings of him since then.' He shrugged, 'if he's found something faster than walking he could be here anytime.'

'I'd prefer that he didn't get here at all.'

'My people are doing what they can, sir.' Strausser was irritated, 'our relay system is working as planned and we have agents in place in every town between here and Indianapolis.' He glanced at the pendant around the other man's neck, 'the riders are fast, but communications would be a hell of a lot faster if we could use that.'

Flynn's hand moved to the pendant, almost protective. 'I told you before, Major, I don't want to use it unless I have to. The fewer people who know that there's a way of sourcing power the better, at least until we're ready to take control and go public.' His eyes narrowed, 'and remember, the Matheson girl has her father's pendant and if she works out how to use it, she could do us some serious harm. I don't want to give her any ideas.' He nodded towards the troops gathered under the trees, talking quietly, checking their weapons, 'we're doing fine as we are.'

Strausser shrugged, 'I understand all that, sir, but unless we stop him, Miles Matheson will be here soon, and he has a reputation for surviving and for succeeding in the field, especially when he and Monroe are together. We'll need every advantage we can get.'

Flynn frowned, 'all rumours to the contrary, he's just a man, Major. I have every confidence that our agents will find him and deal with him, and if they don't? Then we will.'

….

Egypt, Indiana. 87.5 miles from Chicago.

Miles woke sometime before dawn and stretched, grateful for the comfort of a mattress, reasonably clean sheets and a proper bed after sleeping rough for a couple of nights. It had been worth trading his watch for a room in a cheesy, tourist hotel so he could get a night's sleep even though the hotel had run out of whisky and was almost out of food. Dinner had been rabbit stew which he'd paid for with a pair of hiking socks.

With credit and ID's unavailable, people were trading tangibles, food, clothing, a gold watch, a diamond ring, weapons. He was fast running out of things he was prepared to part with.

The blackout had started just a few days ago but that plus the bombs had turned everything on its head and things were falling apart. People were beginning to lose faith in anyone turning up to take charge, to fix things. He hadn't seen a police uniform since Indianapolis, and people had started to take advantage of the situation. He'd walked past plenty of evidence of that, shop windows broken, contents stripped, houses empty, vandalised, burned. There'd been screams and shouting at times but he'd walked past that too. Getting involved wouldn't help. He needed to get to Bass and then together they needed to find Ben and Rachel.

The thought of seeing Rachel again brought back memories and feelings he'd worked very hard to bury, but Ben had known that the power was going off.

So he must know how to turn it back on again.

The motel was eerily quiet without the sounds of the highway, but somewhere not far away was the sound of a fight. He listened. It wasn't exactly a fight. It sounded more as though someone was getting beat up, someone who wasn't fighting back, maybe couldn't fight back.

He waited, almost surprised at his own ingrained expectation that someone would come, civilian police, bouncers, someone. But the beating went on, the groans getting weaker, the slapping sound of fists on flesh becoming wet and accompanied by the dull thuds of kicks.

No one was coming.

Shit. So much for not getting involved. He got up, threw his jacket on and shoved his feet into his boots. Went outside.

In the cool air of pre-dawn the silhouettes of two burly figures in the carpark courtyard were stark against the sky. As he watched one of the figures landed a kick on a darker shape lying on the ground at their feet.

The figure groaned, a male voice.

Loosening up his shoulders, Miles walked over to them. 'What's up guys?'

The taller of the two turned, snarling. 'Fuck off, mister.'

Miles shrugged, 'looks to me like the other guy's had enough and given up. Maybe you could stop now and go home?' He wasn't hopeful but it was worth a try.

Shorter guy looked Miles up and down, a little worried, 'Dwayne? Maybe he's right, the boots ain't worth it.'

Miles sneered, 'boots? You're beating up a guy for his boots? How old are you, twelve?'

Dwayne looked defensive, 'we asked first, we need them for trading.'

Short guy nodded, eager, 'yeah, money ain't no good no more.'

'So why don't you use your own boots?'

Dwayne smirked, 'because we're wearing them, stupid.'

Miles took a deep breath, let it out. 'Ok, here's the deal. I've been walking for days and I'm tired, I traded my watch for a room in this hotel but you morons were making way too much noise and woke me up.' He took a step closer, looming. 'You owe me some sleep, so why don't you walk away now and I'll let you keep the boots you're wearing.'

Dwayne just laughed, 'you and who's army, fella?

Short guy looked worried again, his gaze going from Miles to Dwayne and back to Miles. 'He's a big guy, Dwayne, looks tough… maybe we should do what he says?'

'I don't want to do what he says, pea brain.' Dwayne was snarling again now, then he took a step closer to Miles, fists raised, a hulking shape in the morning light. 'Why don't you mind your own fucking business and piss off while you still can.'

Miles smiled, 'Wrong answer, Dwayne.'

A little less than 3 minutes later.

Miles left Dwayne and short guy unconscious and tied by their belts to the back bumper of an abandoned tip truck where someone would probably find them, eventually anyway. Then he slung their boots up onto the roof of the hotel. If they wanted them back, they could climb up and get them, or find something to trade for some new ones. Whatever.

Then he turned to the slumped figure of the guy they'd been beating on.

He was up on his knees, the blood streaming down his face was shiny in the growing light, his lips swollen and cracked and an eye shut and puffy. Bruises bloomed dark on every exposed inch of skin.

Miles walked over and held a hand out. 'Hey, want a hand?'

The other took it and got to his feet. He was unsteady, still bent over but obviously tall, almost as tall as Miles, and well put together. He peered up with bloodshot blue eyes. 'Thanks. I was just walking past on my way out of town when they jumped me. I thought I was dead for sure. Then you came along.' He tipped his head to a military issue duffel bag on the ground a short distance away. 'That's my bag. There's a bottle of single malt in there with your name on it.'

Miles grinned. 'Now you're talking. I've got a room where you can get cleaned up and I saw a couple of glasses in the kitchen.' He slung the bag over one arm and put the other under the guys shoulder, taking most of his weight and turning them towards his room. 'Where are you headed?'

The man spat out a mouthful of blood. 'Chicago, I've got family there. Caught the bus up from Camp Lejeune because I couldn't afford to fly, which was a good thing I guess, all things considered.' He shrugged, wincing, then kept limping along. 'Anyway, when the blackout started we were stuck on the highway a way east of here so I started walking,' he glanced at Miles, a deep anger in his eyes, 'then there was the surge. And the bombs.'

Miles nodded, his own rage like a stone in his guts. 'Yeah, the bombs.' He stopped at his door, opened it and steered them inside, carefully putting the bag on the floor, he didn't want to chance breaking the bottle. 'So what's your name?'

The other man sank onto one of the kitchen chairs, sighing with relief. 'Jeremy Baker, Sergeant, 2nd Battalion Combat Engineers.' He held up his left arm. The sleeve below the elbow hung empty. 'Retired.'

…..

AN: Hi and thanks again for reading, more soon! Cheers, Magpie J


	6. Chapter 6

Rebel, chapter 6

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Hi and thanks so much for coming back, and for some lovely comments. Sorry to take so long but things got a bit hectic and I haven't had much time for writing L. Anyway, hope you enjoy :D cheers, Magpie

Chicago, early morning.

In the distance, the Mall carpark was a vast expanse of bitumen just off the highway, its black surface patterned with an intricate spiderweb network of white lined parking spaces and laneways surrounding the monolithic towers of the shopping centre itself. The carpark looked empty, like on a really slow Sunday, although there were a couple of dozen cars, SUV's and work vehicles parked in a cluster close to the entrance. A scattering of vehicles lay abandoned along the entry and exit roads too.

Bass was taking a turn at driving the horses and Charlie was sitting in between him and Pol, his thigh and hip snug against hers. She looked at his hands on the reins, firm, capable, strong, remembering the feel of them on her skin and grinned, giving her hormones a mental kick in the ass and getting back to the moment. He looked comfortable, relaxed, as though he'd been driving wagons all his life. He was also almost impossibly good looking in the morning sunshine, shoulders broad under a rumpled shirt and worn leather jacket, forearms muscled and strong, his eyes that amazing blue and his hair blown back into a dirty blond curly mess by the wind. Shit. She gave her hormones and pulse rate another wack and nudged his arm with her elbow. 'Hey, you're pretty good at this.'

He glanced at her, the blue eyes amused although with a heat in them that stoked the fire in her belly. 'Always thought I was born into the wrong century.' He flicked the reins, guiding the horses round a couple of semi's and the tangled mound of a limousine crashed into an oncoming truck, 'and you really can't beat actual horsepower, especially when the horses are this pretty.'

Pol was sitting back, relaxed, her hat down over her eyes. She lifted the brim with one finger and opened an eye, 'I think they like you too, Bass.'

One of the big, glossy black beasts snorted and lifted its tail, large pellets dropping to the ground, just missing his boot.

Bass laughed, 'sure they do.'

Pol's chuckle turned into a snort, 'if she didn't like you you'd be wearing that. Oh, some government guys came round a few weeks ago, trying to buy 'em? All of them. Said it was an important new project.' She frowned and sat up, indignant. 'As if I'd let anyone buy my babies just like that. They were pretty damn persistent too, until I told 'em where they could shove their money.' Her eyes went to Bass then Charlie and back again, narrowed and shrewd. 'I called a few friends after that and apparently these guys've been going to folks all over the country doing the same thing. Lookin' to buy up good breeding stock on the quiet. Horses, cattle, dogs…even sheep and chickens for crying out loud.'

'How do you know they were government?' Bass was a bit more than curious and he glanced at Charlie. She shrugged, shaking her head, but he could see the same thoughts going through her mind that were in his.

Pol snorted again, 'they knew fuck all about horses, or farming… and they were all wearing shiny black shoes, not one of 'em had a decent pair of boots.' Her lips twitched. 'And they were dead scared of Diablo.' She grinned and winked at Charlie, 'he's my stallion, and he doesn't like strangers much.' She sat back and tipped her hat back down over her eyes, a chuckle coming out from under the battered rim. 'He didn't like them one little bit.'

Charlie laughed, but inside she was worried and increasingly frustrated. Her fingers itched for her phone or a keyboard and the gaping hole in the universe where the net and its instant access to infinite information had been had never seemed bigger. She couldn't do a search, couldn't contact anyone or anything, couldn't even talk to her dad, or Danny. Even if she turned the pendant on it wouldn't do any good because the net wouldn't be working anywhere else anyway without power. She felt lost for a moment, helpless. How could they fight these people without information? She looked up at Bass, knowing that he'd see how it was but not saying anything because she didn't want to scare Pol. Not unless she had to.

He put his hand on hers, his eyes steady, reassuring. 'We'll see what we can find out, ok? We'll send people to other towns, gather intel the old way. Folk here might know something too.' He took up the reins in both hands again and glanced past Charlie to Pol, his voice calm, relaxed... 'You'll have to introduce me to Diablo, Pol. He sounds like quite a guy.'

There was another chuckle from under the hat, 'I might just do that, but don't think that you'll get around him that easy, even with your pretty face.'

Charlie had been scanning the Mall and jumped, staring, there was movement around the mall entrance. 'Hey, there're people down there.'

Pol opened both eyes and sat up, her hat falling off. She caught it just before it slipped off the wagon. 'Where?'

Bass didn't look surprised. 'Where do you think everyone from here went?' He waved a hand at the highway and abandoned vehicles and shrugged, tipping his head to the back of the wagon, 'I thought this might happen so I brought a few things to trade.'

Charlie looked over her shoulder, all she could see were their weapons and she turned back slightly shocked. 'You're going to trade Miles' guns?'

He made a face. 'Hell no. He really would kill me if I did that. I brought them in case we need to use 'em.' He flicked the reins, guiding them round another truck. 'There's a bag full of gold and diamonds and other stuff next to the guns. Sophie had a chat to some of the ladies in town and got a collection together. Hopefully people still want stuff like that.' The corners of his mouth twitched, 'and hopefully the jewellery store put their own stuff in the safe before the blackout happened so we don't have too much competition.' His voice trailed off as he saw something up ahead. 'Hey, that doesn't look good'

The wagon with Jim and Pete in had pulled over a little ahead of them and as they drew up level, Jim pointed up the road. 'Guys? What do you think?'

Pete was sitting on the edge of the seat, his dark, powerful bulk dwarfing Jim who was far from being a small man himself. 'Looks like trouble to me.' His voice was a bass rumble.

A couple of hundred yards away past a concertinaed pile of assorted vehicles was a large, white bus lying on its side, the windows heavily barred and the words 'Prisoner transport' in large black letters printed along the body. The doors at the front were wide open, busted and bent and what looked like the bodies of several men in uniform were splayed on the road, each lying in a pool of dried, rust black blood.

The Murphy sisters and Pol's other son in the third wagon drew up alongside the other two and Freya Murphy leaned towards them, her chiselled features and ice blue eyes intense and striking under the piled dreads, a blue tattooed wolf framing the left side of her face, its jaws framing her eye and tail curling around her neck. 'Keep your eyes open. Those doors didn't open on their own.'

Sigrid Murphy nodded, a mirror image of her sister, the wolf tattoo curling over her right eye. 'That's a high security set up too, we could be dealing with some bad people.'

Bass frowned, his eyes hard. 'So we need a plan.'

…..

Outside Egypt, Indiana. Early morning on the road to Chicago.

Miles glanced at the man walking beside him. He hadn't asked about the arm, and Jeremy hadn't offered. It didn't seem to hold him back too much though, he was managing ok on his own. 'Didn't they give you a prosthetic?'

Jeremy shrugged. 'Yeah. It's in the bag.' He lifted the duffel off his shoulder with his thumb then let it fall back, 'damn thing stopped working when the blackout happened and it felt like a stone just hanging there. So I took it off.'

Miles nodded. 'Figures. Electricity works well.' He waved a hand at the silent power poles striding off into the distance over the hills. 'Except when it doesn't.'

'The power'll come back on, it has to, at least some of it. An EMP wears off eventually.' Jeremy kicked a stone out of the way. 'And that has to be what happened, right?'

'An EMP that wiped the power out for the whole country, maybe the whole planet, then let the power come on again just long enough for the bombs to drop?' Miles stared off into the distance. 'That's not like any EMP I ever heard of.' He glanced at the other man. 'There're some people in Colorado who do know how and why this is happening though and one of them's my brother. I'm planning to go to Chicago, collect a buddy of mine, then head on up to Colorado, find my fucking brother and make him turn the power back on.' He stopped walking, 'you interested?'

Jeremy stopped too. 'Are you kidding?' He lifted his arm, the empty sleeve flapping, 'I thought this'd taken me out of the action and here I am right slap bang in the middle of it.' He grinned, a lop sided smile, an eyebrow lifting. 'Walking's gonna take too long though.'

Miles looked at him, curious, 'you got a better idea?'

Jeremy spread his other arm out, 'Sapper here, remember? We always have better ideas, it's why you grunts keep inviting us to your parties.'

Miles rolled his eyes, 'I mean have you got a better idea right now?' he looked around, 'because I'm seeing nothing but trees and grass and…'

'A railway yard.'

'Derelict, looks like it hasn't been used in years.'

'That's the best kind.' Jeremy started off towards the yard, then looked back. 'You coming?'

…

Randall Flynn was a patient man. But he was well aware that the new President wasn't. It was imperative that the matter of Charlotte Matheson and her stolen pendant be brought to a successful resolution as quickly as possible. He looked down at the shopping Mall from their position on the hill above the highway. 'Major Strausser?'

'Here, sir.' Strausser strode up to join him, impatient. He was breathing a little fast.

'Are our men in position?'

'Yes sir, they're waiting for me.' He glanced at the pendant round Flynn's neck, 'I still say this'd be a whole lot faster if you turned that on.'

Randall Flynn ignored him. 'The situation inside the shopping centre, how is it?'

'Difficult to say for sure from the outside,' Strausser shrugged, 'After we blew the doors we found twelve prisoners still alive and they headed straight for the target.' His lips twitched, 'once we disposed of the surviving guards of course.' He glanced down at the Mall then back at Flynn. 'Our scouts are reporting signs of conflict at the main entrance and there's some kind of siege activity happening further inside.' His eyes narrowed, 'but the situation is uncontrolled, sir, unpredictable. I'd like to take my men in now, before...'

'I said no. We wait.' Flynn cut him off with a chopped hand. 'This is a great opportunity for us, Major. The Matheson girl and the others will be here soon.' He smiled, 'Monroe is a soldier, he'll feel obliged to go to the rescue and if we play our cards right, he'll do most of the work and we'll be able to capture the girl, eliminate Monroe and still be heroes saving our citizens from violent escaped felons.' He smiled grew wider, 'it's perfect.'

Strausser took a deep breath. 'Sir, there may not be many left to save if Monroe doesn't arrive soon.'

Flynn shrugged, 'one or two witnesses are all we need.' He lifted his glasses to his eyes, then tipped his chin at the wagons gathering on the road near the Prison bus, 'and look, there's Monroe now.' He glanced at Strausser, waving a hand in dismissal. 'What are you waiting for Major? You have your orders.'

The other man stood for a moment, his lips tight, eyes hooded. Then he nodded. 'Yes, sir.'

…

'I'll check it out.' Charlie jumped down from the wagon, joining Bass on the ground.

The bus looked shaky, unstable, as though it could collapse or roll off the edge of the road at any time and Bass shook his head, 'I'll do it.'

She gave him a glare. 'I'm the lightest, less chance of it rolling if I do it.'

He returned the glare with interest. 'Charlie, you're not trained for this kind of thing, I am and it could be bad in there, really bad, you don't need to do it.'

She shrugged, 'it can't be worse than what I've been doing the last few days.'

Jim nodded, 'she's got a point Bass,' he spread his hands out, 'and she's right, she's the lightest, and youngest, she's got a better chance than any of us of making it without tipping the whole damn thing over.'

Bass didn't look happy but he nodded, 'Ok.'

He insisted on being the one to give her a leg up though, his hands strong and certain on her hips, stroking down her legs and holding her ankles as she stood on his shoulder. His touch was reassuring and steady as she hauled herself up onto the suddenly huge side of the big vehicle and crawled her way up over the wheel arches and bent metal, working her way along flat on her belly until she was close enough to peer in through the bars over one of the smashed windows.

She'd been wrong, it was worse.

The inside of the prisoner transport was a bloody mess. The bus had ploughed into a number of smaller vehicles, careening through the smaller objects and ending up on its side in a mangled ruin. The dead prisoners, four men and two women in stained and flyblown prison orange, were all on that side, still strapped in their seats, their bodies crushed and tangled up with the seats, glass and metal of the bus. Behind a metal grille at the front was a human driver, cheaper than an autopilot. She was dead too, so were the two guards hanging limp from their seats at the front of the bus, facing the others, their faces swollen and distorted in death.

The smell of decay, of rot inside the bus was awful, indescribable, a miasma that felt solid, that went down her throat like a disgusting tide until it felt like she was drowning in it, choking. She held her arm over her nose, eyes watering, stomach roiling, somehow managing not to throw up but to keep looking around, trying to work out what else had happened inside the bus.

At least twelve other seats on the uncrushed side had been occupied. The straps serving as seatbelts and restraints had been cut, or shot off and hung limp down into the space between the aisles below, swaying just a little as she shuffled to get a better view.

She gasped, pulling back when one of the Guard's bodies moved, just about to yell for help when a rat ran out from underneath the woman's arm, then another from the body slumped in the next seat. Then she saw something else on what would've been the side of the bus but was now the floor, a lapel pin, glinting in a dusty sunbeam that pointed at it like a finger. A triangle in a circle, something like an eye in the middle.

She knew that symbol. The DoD.

They were here.

…

Miles had stopped counting the beats, had stopped noticing the chaos and destruction, the glimpses of confusion, violence and panicked faces as they rolled along the railway tracks running through the outskirts of Chicago. All he knew was push up and pull down, push up and pull down until his back and thighs felt like they were on fire. 'I really, really hate handcars. Next time we do my idea.' He sucked in a breath and groaned, 'ok?'

Jeremy grinned, an eyebrow quirking but sweat was rolling down his face and he was breathing hard as he pushed and pulled with his one good arm. 'Stop complaining, your idea sucked. This is way faster than horses and she doesn't need feeding.'

Miles rolled his eyes. 'She is a fucking rust bucket.' He pulled his flask out and took a swig, his other hand keeping up the rhythm, then tossed it to the other man.

Jeremy took his hand off the rail and caught the flask in one quick move, taking a long draught and tossing it back. 'Thanks, and hey, don't insult the rust bucket. Once we got her all lubed up, she was raring to go.' He tipped his head towards a road sign coming up fast on the right. 'And look. Only another ten miles. We're nearly there.'

Miles looked, then started pumping faster.

For some reason he felt the need to hurry.

…

AN: Hey there! J thanks again, things are hotting up and next episode everyone gets some action… next one up asap, cheers, Magpie


	7. Chapter 7

Rebel, chapter 7

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Hi, thanks so much for reading and for coming back. Sorry for the delay in posting – life is pretty full on at the moment but I'm really enjoying writing this story and work on it as often as I can :D Thanks so much too for your kudos and comments, they are very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy this next bit. Cheers, Magpie

…

'It doesn't look good.' Bass crept back behind the big RV where Charlie, Jim and Pete were waiting and crouched, leaning back against a front tyre, frowning. 'The front doors are smashed in and I spotted a few bodies just inside. Couldn't see if they were in prison gear or not but I could hear shouting and some shots further on in.' His eyes narrowed, angry. 'There were kids crying in there, babies.'

Charlie looked up at him, kneeling up so she could see the Mall entrance. She couldn't see anything much but the thought of children crying, scared and in danger made her blood boil. 'Then we need to do something. Now.' She nodded back to where they'd left Pol, her sons and the wagons. 'Do you think they'll be ok if we leave them here while we go in?'

Pete was checking and loading guns, passing them to Jim who laid them carefully out ready on a piece of oilskin. He looked up, 'Pol said they were fine when I went to fetch these, they're gonna pull back off the road and stay out of sight until they hear from us, but I'll stay with 'em if you like.'

Jim shook his head, glancing at Bass and getting a nod of agreement. 'Sounds like we'll need you in there. Pol and her boys are well able to look after themselves.' He snapped to attention as he spotted a couple of lithe figures coming towards them, moving from cover to cover in a smooth, coordinated dance. 'The Murphy's are back.'

Pete huffed, relieved. 'About fucking time, thought something'd happened to them.'

Sigrid and Freya ran over the last bit of open ground between the vehicles and columns of the parking apron to join them, running crouched over, hoods up over the bright dreads of their hair.

Freya arrived first and tucked herself in next to Pete, flashing him a grin and panting just a little, her voice breathy as she turned to the others. 'We didn't see any prisoner types, but there're some fresh tracks in the woods the other side of the highway, looks like a biggish group, twenty maybe? Mostly men by the boot sizes.' She tipped her head towards the tree lined rise, 'But there are some tyre marks too and they look fresh.' She glanced at Bass, puzzled. 'How could that be?'

He shrugged, non-comital, not quite meeting her gaze.

Charlie's hand went to the pendant around her neck almost without her realizing it, but she didn't say anything, didn't know what to say. If she hadn't run away from the DoD maybe none of this would've happened, maybe she could've convinced her parents to do something to stop it, maybe she could've convinced somebody, somewhere to listen. A cold shiver ran down her spine at the thought of any part of the mess they were in being her fault and she stared down at the ground, her eyes bleak. Was it time to use the pendant? To tell people what was really going on? Or as much as she knew of what was going on anyway…

She chewed her bottom lip so hard it stung and the tang of blood made her swallow hard.

Twenty soldiers. What could their little militia possibly do against that many without some kind of help? Thumb drifting to the bottom edge of the silver shape, she felt for the tiny bump, the on button, then hesitated. Once done there'd be no going back, and what use would it be anyway? The pendant's range wasn't enough to do anything more than turn on a few street lights and power up her phone but even if it was enough to fire up the whole grid she didn't have anyone to call. Miles could be anywhere. If he was still alive. Her heart clenched, her fingers closing hard around the hard metal of the pendant. He couldn't be dead, she wouldn't believe it. He was too smart, too alive to die. And he'd believe her. He'd spoken to her dad. Fuck it, he and Bass were the only ones she knew would be on her side. Her friends back in Colorado thought she was crazy, even Danny had believed the DoD's lies about her and as for her mom and dad? They worked for the enemy.

Shit. Her thumb hovered over the button.

Bass' gaze flicked down to her, a frown creasing his brows.

Sigrid slid in next to her sister then glanced around the group and nodded, ice blue eyes hard. 'Something's going down, something big. There were signs of three, maybe four heavy vehicles. Troop transports maybe?' The eyes narrowed. 'Maybe it's the army, or the enemy, I mean the enemy could have power, couldn't they?' She frowned, her whole body tense, 'maybe it's a fucking invasion?'

'She could be right.' Pete's wide dark face was set, eyes angry, his hands tense on the gun he was holding. 'The bastards could've been planning this for months. First they knock out the power, then they come and knock us out while we're down.'

Jim stared out at the hills, his face like a stone. 'Yeah… they could be watching us now, waiting till we're inside.' His head swivelled round to the Mall, 'we could be walking into a trap.'

'Take it easy, folks.' Bass put a hand on Charlie's shoulder and squeezed, 'that's a hell of a lot of assumptions.'

She froze then looked up, catching his eyes, watching as they dropped to her hand on the pendant then back, seeing the warning in them, the tiny shake of his head. She held the blue gaze, casually letting her hand drop. He was right and so was Jim. The DoD could have people everywhere. Definitely not the time to let on that she had a source of power, or talk about the DoD either, because for all she knew any of these people could be with them, could be waiting for some sign that she had the pendant, that she knew how to use it.

The only person she could absolutely trust here was him. Bass. She nodded.

He smiled, just a little, just enough for her to see then swung around so he could face them all, his easy, confident charm and reasonable voice visibly notching down the tension. 'We don't know what's going on, not yet anyway.' He looked at each of them in turn, 'although I promise you we'll find out as soon as we can, but right now?' He pointed to the Mall, serious, 'right now there are people in trouble down there and I don't see any one else rushing to help them.' He picked up his back pack and slung it over his shoulder, standing up. 'So let's go sort out the bad guys and rescue the good guys so we can get the supplies we need for our friends and families and go home. Then we'll find out what's happening with the trucks and other shit. Ok?'

Jim stared at him for a moment, eyes dark, considering. Then he nodded, gathered his gear and stood up, glancing down at Pete and the two women next to him as he did. All three looked away, a little embarrassed. He frowned, staring them into looking back. 'He's right. First things first.' He looked down at the others. 'You coming?'

Sigrid looked mutinous for a moment, opened her mouth to say something then shut it again and nodded, glancing at her sister as she got to her feet.

Freya wrinkled her nose, her tattoo snarling. Then she stood up, lips set tight. 'Ok, but then we find out what the fuck's going on.' Her eyes swept round the others, 'because I've got a bad feeling about this shit.'

Pete stood too, his broad face fierce. 'Yeah, me too. Things are getting weird.' He tipped his head towards Pol and the wagons and beyond them the town. 'We need to get back home, make sure our own friends and families are safe.'

Bass looked at him, nodded. 'We'll be in and out before you know it.' Then he reached a hand down to Charlie.

She took it, swinging up to stand by his side, her eyes meeting and holding his in a mutual promise for later. They needed to talk, to work out a plan, and soon. Her hand stroked up his chest, fingers tracing the smooth, hard muscle, the strong heartbeat thudding against her palm. She put it all in her eyes… that she needed him, wanted him, wanted to feel him inside her again, wanted him to make her feel alive. She burned for him, her heart soaring when his blue gaze burned back at her, electric, his tongue dipping out over his lips sending shivers down to her toes.

He bent towards her, dropping a kiss on her lips that was soft and hard at the same time and so full of his unique energy and intensity that she shivered again, wanting more, glad that in the insanity that her world had become she had him at her back.

He stood back up, eyebrow quirked and a little smile playing around his lips, just for her. 'You ready?'

She glinted back, loving the challenge in that beautiful but totally and intensely male face. 'Always am.' Then she bent over and picked up two of the guns. It was a good thing she'd worn her high-tops rather than her boots, they were better for running and she had a feeling they might be doing a bit of that.

She glanced round at the others. 'Let's go.'

….

Miles marched into the porch and up to his front door. It was shut. Locked. No Bass. There were signs of life though, a basket of wood by the door, a pile of kindling next to it and two pairs of boots. He glanced at those, then frowned and took a second look, suspicious. The bigger pair, regular military issue, had to belong to Bass, they were his size with laces tied the way he liked them. But there was a smaller pair next to them, close enough to touch.

In fact the boots were leaning against the bigger pair, looking casual, at home, as though the owners were friends or even closer. Maybe Bass had a girlfriend staying? He chuckled. Trust his brother to find a girl to hang with even in the apocalypse.

Then he frowned and looked again because the smaller boots looked kind of familiar and when he bent down to have a closer look he knew he was right. They were. Damn. He'd had them hand made in Chicago as a present for Charlie's eighteenth birthday. The buckles were steel, custom tooled with the circle M for Matheson, the same as his and Bass' damn, stupid tattoos. She'd even sent him vids of her wearing them as a thank you and here they were being way too fucking friendly with Bass' size twelve steel-caps. His ears got hot and he felt the growl that started in his chest rumble up into his throat. Charlie was here. Had been here for who knows how fucking long. In his house. With his absolutely and completely unfucking trustworthy around anything female best friend. And why the fuck was she here anyway?

'Looks like no one's home so I hope you've got your keys cause I really need to use the bathroom.' Jeremy stepped up closer, noticed the boots and grinned. 'Hey look. That's so cute. It's like the three bears, only two of them. Maybe they've left some porridge inside?' His voice tailed off and his eyes narrowed when he saw the look on Miles' face. 'What is it? What's happened?'

Miles stood up, dropping his bag on the ground, face like thunder. 'He's not in the house but he's around here somewhere, and so's my niece.'

Jeremy shrugged, carefully, 'and I'm guessing that's not a good thing?'

Miles took a deep, harsh breath, let it out. 'Not sure yet.'

'Who are you and what do you want?' The woman's voice came from behind them, from out on the path. She sounded scared but determined.

'Sophie?' Miles turned around, then raised his hands when he saw the glint of sunshine on the rifle in her hands. Despite the tension in the voice, the gun was pointed right at his belly button and was very steady. 'Sophie it's me, Miles.' He bent down a little so she could see his face and pointed a finger at Jeremy without lowering his hands, 'and this is Jeremy, a friend of mine. He's ok.'

The gun lowered an inch, no more. 'Ok. Maybe. But both of you come out where I can see you.' Her voice was still tense, but not as much. 'Slowly, and keep your hands up. I don't want any trouble.'

Miles moved out of the shadow of the porch, ducking under the low roof and out into the light, 'neither do we.' He gestured for Jeremy to come out. 'See? We've just got here from back east, came halfway across the map on a fucking railway handcart.' He rolled his shoulders, wincing a little. 'Had to leave my car on the road out of Indianapolis.'

She stepped back, sympathetic now. 'Really? I'm sorry Miles, I know how much you love that car.' Then she looked them over, 'you do look pretty rough.' she shrugged, 'but I guess we're all looking pretty rough these days.'

Jeremy took a step forward, his one hand still held up. He smiled, gently flirting, 'don't know about that, ma'am, you look pretty fine to me.'

She lifted an eyebrow, 'well aren't you just the charming one.' Then she noticed his missing arm and the badges on his kit bag and her eyes softened. She lowered the gun. 'You been out long?'

He shook his head, 'no Ma'am, I was heading up this way to find my family and bumped into this guy shortly after the blackout.' He tipped his head towards Miles, 'he looked like he needed a hand so I let him tag along.'

Miles snorted, 'don't listen to him, Sophie, it was totally the other way around.'

The other man smirked. 'Come on. You'd still be walking if it wasn't for me.'

Miles rolled his eyes, 'No. I wouldn't. I had a plan remember?' Ignoring Jeremy's snort, he turned to Sophie. 'Where is everyone?' He looked around, noting the half dozen other assorted people standing a little way away, all armed, all facing them, 'and is this how you welcome folks back home these days?'

Her face hardened a little, eyes sad, 'things have changed, Miles.' She turned and waved at the others to lower their weapons then turned back, worry lines creasing the smooth brown skin of her brow, her generous mouth tight. She brushed a sweat dark lock of hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand, her face tired and anxious. 'Jim went with Bass and Charlie and a few others to get some supplies from the Mall. They're overdue, should've been back by now. I was just heading down town to ask for some of the militia guys to help me go look for them when I spotted you two hanging round the house.'

Miles stared at her for a moment. 'I'll go with you.' Then he turned to Jeremy, reached into a pocket in his jeans and tossed him a set of keys. 'Thanks, Jer. For everything. There should be some whisky inside if Bass hasn't drunk it all, so make yourself at home then go find your family.'

Jeremy caught the keys and tossed them back, 'I'll come too. Don't have any family, not now anyway. I made 'em up,' He shrugged, 'didn't want to sound pathetic.'

Miles caught the bunch in one hand, shaking his head, an eyebrow lifting. 'You've only got one arm, Baker. You don't have to do or say anything else to be pathetic.'

Sophie stared at him, shocked, 'Miles Matheson. How could you say that?'

Miles glanced at her, totally unapologetic, 'sorry, Sophie, but if you'd spent as much time listening to this guy sing fucking Ramble on as I have…' He grinned, then turned back to Jeremy. 'Ok, if you've got nothing better to do the railway'll take us right to the Mall siding and it'll be quicker than the road. You figure you've got enough juice left in that arm to do another few miles?'

The other man shouldered his bag, 'I'm betting I've got more juice left in my one arm than you've got in both of yours, Matheson.' He winked at Sophie, 'never met a grunt who complained more about every little thing, almost made me wish I was deaf as well as missing an arm.'

Miles huffed, settled his own bag over his shoulder then turned to Sophie. 'Ok, me and the one armed bandit here'll go on ahead, see what we can find out.' His lips tightened, 'you send a few of your folks on after us by road though. Just in case they have run into trouble, ok?'

She nodded, looking from Miles to Jeremy then back, more than a little bemused. 'I'll do that, they'll be riding bikes so they won't be too far behind you.' She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. 'I'm glad to see you, Miles, glad you're ok. And thanks for helping out.' Her face softened, 'Jim can take care of himself, but things are getting bad everywhere and I can't even call him.' She pulled a phone out of her pocket, 'I carry this around just in case though, just like everyone else.' She put it back, 'I didn't know how much I'd miss being able to talk to people, see people, whenever I wanted, and I'm really worried about him, Miles. About Bass too. He's done a great job around here of helping people get through all of this. He and Charlie are real heroes.'

Miles felt his jaw drop a little, trying to take that in. It sounded as though his playboy, hard drinking, narcissistic but always the one he could rely on in a fight best friend had turned into Captain America. And Charlie a hero? She'd always been a good kid, but a hero? Then he straightened up. Charlie was out there, maybe in trouble, maybe Bass was in trouble too. Or maybe he was the trouble? Shit. He turned and started walking, calling back over his shoulder. 'Don't worry, Sophie. We'll find 'em.'

Jeremy followed, nodding to her as he left, 'hope to see you soon, ma'am.'

….

The Mall entrance automatic doors were smashed, heavy shards of glass lying everywhere.

Bass was hugged against the concrete wall leading up to the doors, peering round into the wide concourse leading to the first bank of escalators. Some of the shop windows were broken too and the floor was littered with bits of furniture and goods from the stores. He lifted a hand and gave the signal for the others to move forward.

Charlie was first, of course, her shoulder bumping his arm as she hurled herself in next to him, hair flying, her eyes meeting his all wide, blue and gorgeous and full of so much of her particular brand of intensity and courage that a frisson of electricity sent blood surging from his brain to his dick. He firmly told it to settle down, then held her eyes and tipped his head in the direction of the broken doors. 'They've left one man on guard outside Dunkin' donuts.'

Her lips were full and very tempting as she licked them, 'I wonder if there're any left… I love Dunkin' donuts.'

His eyes dropped to her mouth then back up to hers, their meeting heated, intense and full of promises. 'Me too, but if there were any he's finished them and he's moved onto popcorn.'

She shrugged, 'they were probably stale anyway.' Her belly rumbled though, disappointed and she reached into her bag for one of the chocolate bars she'd brought for snacks, chewing off half and passing the rest over to Bass.

He took it with a totally wicked smile, chewing with relish and strong white teeth. Then they both got back to business.

The big, massively muscled and heavily inked ex-prisoner in filthy prison orange overalls draped with a bright pink scarf was about thirty feet away, sitting back on one of the couches set up as rest spots in the centre of the wide shop lined avenue leading into the Mall proper. His bald head and heavy beard shiny with sweat, dirt and other things. Grabbing handfuls of popcorn from a bag on the low table in front of him and shovelling them into his mouth, he thumbed the pages of one of a pile of magazines scattered over the table, taking an occasional swig from a quart bottle of whisky.

Sigrid and Freya slid in next to Charlie followed by Pete and Jim, all of them loaded for bear.

Bass turned, eyes resting on the sisters. 'Ladies?' He tipped his head towards the guard. 'Looks like we've got a wallflower. You feel like dancing?'

Freya grinned, looking as feral as her wolf, 'thought you'd never ask.' She glanced at Sigrid, an eyebrow lifting.

Her sister nodded, dropping her pack onto the concrete and moving forward. She took one side of the entrance and Freya took the other, keeping to the edges and out of sight as much as possible, their movements fluid, graceful from one cover to the next, getting closer to the man on the couch with every step.

Charlie was watching the prisoner, he seemed to be oblivious, bending closer to his magazine and absently rubbing his crotch. She could hear crying from somewhere far inside the Mall, a young child by the sound, but the man didn't react to that either. Then she jumped as a figure darted out from behind a stack of shopping trolleys, and another from behind an advertising poster on the other side of the concourse, her mouth dropping open as Sigrid went in from behind, one arm going round the man's throat pulling in tight, the heel of her other hand coming down like a hammer on his temple while Freya flew in from the front, a knee going into the man's groin and her elbow landing on his solar plexus with her entire weight behind it.

Without a word, he collapsed back on the couch the breath rushed out of his mouth in a cartoon ooff… and what sounded like more than a fart escaped the other end.

After she'd tied his hands and feet and gagged him with his belt and the scarf, Freya stood up, a hand waving in front of her face and her nose screwed up in disgust.

Charlie stifled a grin, then got serious as Bass waved them inside, following him as he ran down the long, echoing concourse, aware of Pete and Jim flanking her, of the Murphy's joining them as they ran down the tiled floor of the eerily empty, shadowed and rubbish strewn concourse, through dusty beams of sunlight cast through giant skylights in the ceiling several stories high above them towards the sounds of shouts and crying. Her gaze swept up the frozen steps of escalator zig-zags to the as yet un-touched by looters boutiques and beauty shops on the mezzanine floors rising above them and felt a pang of loss, because even with the limited displays due to a world at war, they were a reminder of times of plenty, of freedom and small, sweet pleasures. Her eyes pricked with sudden, useless tears and she sucked in a breath, wiped them away and kept running.

As they got closer to the food stores the piercing cries were joined by other voices, some demanding and harsh, others defensive and as they turned a corner into the food court Bass held up a hand, signalling for them to take cover.

Charlie followed him down behind a carousel displaying banks of sunglasses, phone cases and other things, aware of the others ducking behind the decorated columns and empty shelves of a bakery frontage, part of her mind remembering that the blackout hit at night before baking started and only the 24 hour supermarket night staff, a few customers and security would've been around. Until the people stranded on the highway arrived of course, and the escaped prisoners.

Up ahead, the security mesh screens were partly closed across the wide entrance to the store and a barricade of shopping trolleys had been placed in a tall, haphazard pile across the narrow open strip, blocking it to the height of a tall man. Behind those were stacked cardboard boxes, placards and crates and behind those were several shadowy figures. A dog was barking from behind the pile, the sound defiant, and from a long way back came the sound of several young voices, fear making them shrill. The sound of a baby crying rose high above everything else, piercing the air.

Charlie felt her stomach tense up at the sound, a visceral, instinctive need to comfort, to stop the crying setting her on edge, making her want to do something, anything…

Gathered into semi-circle in front of the barrier were a group of hard, rough looking people, mostly men but a couple of women in prison orange and assorted other clothing, throwing missiles over the top, brandishing knives, guns and yelling obscenities and threats.

Charlie felt her stomach clench and anger like a tide rise into her throat. On this side of the barrier a few yards away, lying tumbled and still, she could see the bodies of an older woman, a boy, no older than Danny and a thin, bald, legless man lying next to a toppled wheelchair. She swallowed back horror and the urge to run out, to challenge the attackers but stopped herself. She'd seen plenty of bad things, she needed to be calm, to think, they needed to win this without anyone else dying.

She glanced up at Bass.

He was rigid with concentration, his eyes hard. 'I count nine of them out there.'

'There were twelve got out of the bus I think.' She whispered back.

He nodded, 'yeah, so counting our guy at the front door, there're two missing.' He glanced around, 'they've either cut and run or they're here somewhere, maybe trying to find a back way in.'

She nodded, 'nine of them here, six of us.'

He glanced back at her, dipped his eyes to the gun in her hand and handed her the pistol from his belt along with an extra clip. 'Five. Stay here, cover us and keep an eye out for the other two.'

She scowled, angry. 'Why me?'

He loomed over her, tall, imposing, in total soldier mode, his eyes an intense, piercing blue, full of something she couldn't quite name but that sent a thrill down her spine even through her anger. 'Charlie, the rest of us have hand to hand training and experience, you don't. I can't look out for you and fight at the same time, you'd slow me down.' He lifted a hand, signalling the others to move out then leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. 'Stay here. Cover us.' Then he was gone, followed by Pete, Jim and the Murphy twins.

Pete swept past her and nodded, looking relieved when he saw her staying put. So did Jim.

She didn't give them the satisfaction of showing them how frustrated she was.

Freya winked at her as she ghosted past, looking badass tough, slightly amused and annoyingly beautiful.

Sigrid glanced her way as she followed her twin, sympathy as well as a kind of challenge in her pale blue eyes.

Shit. Furious, her lips set in a tight line although she couldn't help running her tongue over them, tasting him, Charlie lifted the gun and got ready to do her job. She understood, she really did, but that didn't mean she liked it or that things were going to stay the way they were. Bass was going to start training her as soon as they got back, hell, she might even ask Sigrid and Freya too.

…

'What do you mean, they're all still alive.' Flynn was angry, his eyes cold.

Strausser shrugged, 'the survivors in the mall are better organised than we thought, sir.'

He didn't sound perturbed, was almost admiring. 'One of the women has taken charge, got the rest into a defensive position in the supermarket. They lost a couple of stragglers but they're currently holding our ex-prisoners at bay behind the security grille and a pile of shopping trollies. Apparently knows something about explosives too.' His cold eyes gleamed, 'she used a home-made grenade to kill two of the prisoners while she was getting her group set up in the shop.'

Flynn looked impatient, 'so? They're still just a gaggle of civilians, what's taking so long?'

Strausser stiffened, 'I told you sir, they're holding their own. Monroe has some good fighters in his group too and he and the others are about to engage with our remaining band of escapees.' His lips twisted in a sneer, 'I'd say the chances are good that he's going to win unless we intervene.'

Irritation made Flynn's eyes pinched, his lips tight. He stood there for a moment then, 'how many prisoners uniforms can you retrieve from the bus?'

The other man sniffed, 'I arranged for retrieval as soon as the girl and the others left the scene sir, so as well as the two from the Mall, we have six from the bus as well as another from the idiot they left on watch at the doors.'

Flynn nodded. 'Good, then we'll stick to the plan. I want word to get out that we're the good guys when we step in and save whoever's left.' He smiled a little, although it didn't reach his eyes. 'Send in nine men. Monroe won't know what hit him.'

…..

Climbing down off the hand cart onto the platform, Miles rolled his shoulders, looking around at the deserted station, noting the shadowy bulk of warehouses on one side of the lines and the towering sprawl of the shopping mall beyond it. 'This place is a motherlode, I'm kind of surprised there aren't people everywhere gathering supplies.'

Jeremy nodded, rubbing the back of his neck with his one hand, the strain of continued exertion showing a little in his face, although he didn't complain. 'It's still early days yet, folks'll be hanging back being good little citizens and waiting for things to get back to normal.' He stretched, jaw cracking, then reached up for his bag, 'if the blackout keeps going a few more days they'll be on this place like a rash.'

Miles grabbed his pack and headed on up to the turnstiles at the exit. They were locked in place. He threw his pack over the barrier, vaulted the turnstile and glanced back at the other man with lips twitching and a gleam in his eyes. 'Always wanted to do that.'

Jeremy rolled his eyes, strolled up to the guards gate, unhooked the chain and walked through. 'Little things…'

'What?' Miles threw him a look then froze, his eyes focusing on something up ahead. He held a hand up, signalling for quiet and for Jeremy to take cover.

Jeremy flattened himself against the curving brick wall leading out to the road, every muscle tense, alert.

Miles slid in beside him, his voice a harsh whisper. 'Sophie said that Bass came with Pol and three wagons along the road from town. That's on the other side of the Mall from here.' His eyes narrowed as he tipped his head towards the group of uniformed men standing in the cover of a loading dock, some busy changing into what looked like orange jumpsuits. 'I haven't seen any sign of troop movements since Indianapolis,' he glanced at Jeremy, 'have you?'

Jeremy shook his head, his eyes scanning, assessing the situation. 'No.'

Miles frowned. 'So who the fuck are they, and why are they here now?'

…

AN: Hi there, and thanks again for reading J I thought I'd better stop before this chapter grew any more, lol but I wanted to get everyone to their places for the next scene so hope you didn't mind too much. Next one's on its way, hope to see you there, cheers, Magpie.


	8. Chapter 8

Rebel, chapter 8

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Hi, thanks so much for reading, for some lovely, encouraging comments, and for coming back. Hope you enjoy J Cheers, Magpie

…

Charlie did her job, although to be honest it didn't look like anyone needed covering.

As soon as they saw Bass and the others coming towards them, the escaped prisoners, seven big, tough looking men and two equally tough looking women, stopped shouting and threatening the people hiding behind the barrier and decided to retreat, falling back into a ragged line with their backs to the wall beside the shop.

It didn't do them any good.

Getting there first, the Murphy's were a whirling tag team of fists and fury, laying into anyone they could find, the two female prisoners out of the game within seconds. Pete had left one of the men a crumpled orange mess on the ground and was busy mowing his way through another. Jim was focused on another of the escaped prisoners, throwing punches, kicks and dodging fists in a grim, business-like way that looked and was smoothly efficient, and Bass?

Charlie felt a grin curve her lips as she watched him because damn he was worth watching, although, ok, maybe she was just a teeny bit biased.

He was all lithe, masculine strength, his tall, hard muscled form moving with economic and deadly precision, striking out with fists and feet or the butt of his gun and avoiding return strikes with a rhythm and speed that was almost casual, effortless. It was like she was watching a scene from one of her dad's old movies, made back before war made things like that too real for pretending. She tried not to relax her guard, to keep watch on all of them and keep scanning the mall for the two missing prisoners but her eyes kept drifting back to him. Damn it, she had to get a grip.

She focused. Things were moving fast now and just three of the enemy were still standing, surrounded. As she watched, one of them then the other put their hands up in surrender.

She did another sweep, there was no sign of the missing two prisoners in any direction so Charlie spared a glance for the people behind the barrier. A small crowd of men, women and kids had gathered there shouting encouragement to their rescuers, some of them were dismantling part of the pile of trolleys and boxes to make a way out and a couple of small, excited boys were running around, yelling and punching the air.

She looked back in time to see Pete finish the last prisoner off with a punch to the jaw from one of his huge fists that sounded so loud it echoed and sent the man flying. After that it wasn't long till all of the prisoners were bundled up against a wall, tied up and gagged with rope and rags brought out by a couple of the defenders.

Then her attention was drawn by something else.

Bass was near the barrier, talking to a slim, dark haired, very beautiful woman. They were standing very close and when the woman put a hand to her mouth and he took her in his arms, hugging her tight, Charlie felt her throat clench as she sucked in a breath, jealousy and hurt like a hard punch to her belly.

The woman looked like she was about to cry.

Shit.

Then Bass looked at her over the dark head pillowed on his chest and waved her over, a weird kind of desperation in his eyes.

Charlie took a deep, deep breath. He'd had other women before her, a hell of a lot of them from what she'd heard. She'd just have to deal with it. He seemed to care a lot about this one though. He was stroking her hair, damn it.

And damn him for making her care about him.

She sucked in another breath, let it out, straightened up, gritted her teeth and marched over. Charlie Matheson didn't back down, not from anything or anyone.

Some of the rescued people were walking around now, smiling at her, milling around Jim, Pete and the Murphy's, wanting to talk, say thank you. She nodded and smiled back on automatic, brushing past, not really seeing them because all she could see was Bass with his arms around another woman.

Finally she got there, standing straight, being calm, sympathetic. Not.

'Charlie,' He looked up with what looked a lot like gratitude and relief in his eyes. 'This is Nora. She and Miles have got a kind of thing going when he's in town. Would you tell her that the moron wasn't in Philly when the bombs went off? I don't think she believes me.'

…..

Miles flattened himself behind an exhibition RV parked in the atrium by a bank of silent escalators, watching as the unidentified soldiers gathered under the angled cover of the opposite bank and dirtied themselves up with camo paint, hiding most of their weapons under a couple of benches. 'Well, this is some crazy shit.' His voice was a harsh whisper.

Jeremy nodded, crouching next to Miles. 'If they're not going after the prisoners, then this whole little charade is for the civilians in here,' he looked at the other man, curious, 'including your niece and your buddy. But why?'

Miles was quiet for a moment, his eyes hard, lips tight. 'Good question.' He glanced at Jeremy, 'I'll tell you when I know the answer.' Then he looked around, checking entrances, exits, 'but if this lot are playing the bad guys, then I'm pretty sure we can count on some white hats riding in to save the day and get the applause.'

'Well, the bad guys are moving out, so I guess it's our cue.' Jeremy stood up, grimacing and hitching the strap of his bag around his neck. 'Times like these I really wish I still had two hands.'

Miles gathered his crap and got ready to follow. He glanced at the other man. 'Two hands'd just make you twice as big a pain in my ass.'

Jeremy grinned. 'Like I said, times like these...' Serious again, his pale blue eyes icy, he held his handgun out, 'here, only thing I can't do myself is reload.'

Miles nodded, took the gun, slapped a new clip in then passed it back. 'Stay close, I'll reload for both of us.'

…..

Charlie glanced at the woman beside her loading up boxes and bottles of soap, toothpaste and shampoo from the shelves and stacking them in her trolley. Nora was nice. No, more than nice, she was amazing. 'He'll be ok, Nora. Really. The last thing Miles told Bass was to stay put because he was coming here.'

Special forces, medically retired although she hadn't specified why, Nora had some major skills. She'd been the one who'd got everyone working together and organised the barrier and the defence, including making her own bombs for crying out loud. And she really seemed to care about Miles.

'Thanks, Charlie.' Nora smiled, just a little, although her eyes stayed haunted. 'If anyone can make it, he will. I know that. He'll probably do his usual thing and turn up just when everyone's about given up on him. He's done that before.' She took a deep breath, straightened up and picked up two large bottles of conditioner making a show of studying the labels, her voice deliberately bright. 'To think that I used to stress over whether I needed volume boost or deep repair.' She put them back on the shelves. 'Now I'd give everything in this trolley for a hot shower.'

Charlie grinned, liking the other woman even more. 'Yeah, me too.'

The survivors had split up into groups to gather supplies from the shelves and she, Nora and Bass had taken the pharmacy next door to the supermarket. The others were scattered through the aisles, getting as much stuff as they could and stacking it by the barrier, although they'd need to rig up more wagons or some other transportation to carry it all because every single person who'd holed up at the Mall had voted to go back into town with them where there were houses, beds, other people and some kind of organisation.

Bass came round the corner of the next aisle, pushing his own trolley, it was piled so high with boxes and bags he had to bend round the load to see the two of them. He pulled up next to them with difficulty. 'Glad we don't have to pay for all this.'

Nora nodded, her full lips curved in a smile that was genuine this time. 'Hell, yeah.'

Charlie managed to squeeze a few more packs of soap into her trolley, 'still feels weird though, just taking it.' She glanced at his trolley and the piles of medications and assorted dressings and treatments, 'especially that stuff.'

'We've got more people to look after now, so we'll need it and If we don't take it, someone else will.' Bass reached out and collected a couple of big packs of condoms, shoving them into a gap on the trolley. 'Now, are we ready, ladies?'

Charlie blinked, condoms made her think of sex and that made her think of what they'd done last night and a shiver of arousal rippled down her spine, her clit pulsing in a mini orgasmic rush. She slanted a grin at him, letting her gaze stroke up and down that delicious body. 'Looks like you are… ready I mean.'

He smirked back and licked his lips, his eyes hot blue, wicked. 'I'm always ready, Charlotte.'

Nora looked from one to the other, amusement and just a little speculation in her deep brown eyes. 'Should I turn around or something so I can maintain plausible deniability in front of Miles?'

Charlie looked down at the floor, unable to hide a smug smile.

Bass put a hand on his heart, and bowed just a little. 'Nora, you are a smart woman and a good frie…'

All three of them froze as a couple of shots rang out, echoing from the direction of the supermarket, followed by a chorus of yelling and piercing screams.

…..

Charlie peered out from where they'd taken cover behind a family tableaux of mannequins wearing bright smiles and the latest in domestic camouflage gear and felt a weird sense of déjà vu.

They were far enough away not to be out of sight but close enough to see most of what was happening and it looked like most of the survivors were back huddled behind what was left of the barrier except for a half dozen men and women huddled out front with their hands up before a group of what looked a lot like more ex-prisoners.

She stared. That couldn't be right.

She counted nine men in dirty orange overalls, prisoner uniform, at least five with guns, but the numbers didn't make sense. The prisoners they'd captured before were still tied up on the ground where they'd been left and from what she could see of the faces of the ones who were awake, they were confused too.

There was no sign of Jim, but the Murphy sisters were slumped tied up to one of the pillars near the barrier, their heads lolling, bodies limp and Pete was lying on the ground a little way away. He was very still, blood spreading over the tiled floor in a pool around his head.

'Shit. They got Pete but I think the Murphy's are still alive.' Bass was close, looking over her shoulder, his breath hot on her cheek. 'I thought you said only twelve of them got out of that bus.'

She pictured the inside of the bus, going over what she'd seen in her mind, checking the numbers again. 'That's what I thought.' She turned so she could see his face, confused. 'There weren't enough seats for this many so I don't know where these guys came from. Maybe there was another bus?'

Nora frowned. 'Those guns are army issue, not civilian.'

Bass nodded, eyes narrowed as he studied the men. 'You're right. So are their boots and haircuts, and they move like soldiers, not ex-cons.'

Charlie felt cold. 'What are you saying?'

His hand gripped her hip, hard, possessive, his voice grim. 'Those aren't escaped prisoners. They're soldiers, probably DoD. You said there was one of their crappy lapel pins on that bus so we know they're here and now we know why.' He turned her round so he could see her face, his blue eyes intense, fierce. 'This is a trap, Charlie. Like you said, they're after you and your dad's pendant and this is all just a part of it, part of whatever plan they've cooked up to take over the fucking world.'

She stared back, 'but what's so important about my dad's pendant that they'd do all this?'

He leaned in closer, voice an urgent whisper. 'You said that it's special, that your dad made it different than the others, more powerful.' He stared at her, 'they'd have pendants too, wouldn't they? So what if your pendant is somehow connected to the others, to theirs? One ring to rule them all, Charlie.'

'What? What ring?' She was confused…

He rolled his eyes. 'Sorry, old movie. What I mean is, your dad might have made your pendant as some kind of master controller and if they even suspect that that's what it is, they'll be afraid that we'll work out how to use it.' His eyes rested on the pendant round her neck then rose to meet hers again. 'Maybe we could use it to track their communications, track them and maybe even find out what their plans are.'

There was such intensity in his eyes that she almost flinched, but what he said made sense. It would be just like her dad to think of something like that, and with Aaron helping? Maybe he'd actually done it…

Bass kept going, his eyes boring into hers. 'That'd be enough reason all on its own for them to want to get it back, but on top of that, the pendant is proof of what they've been doing, proof that there's a way of accessing power and if they get it we won't have a chance in hell of beating them.' His eyes bored into hers. 'We can't let them have it, Charlie, we have to leave. Now.'

'What are you talking about?' Nora sounded puzzled and more than a bit worried, 'what pendant? And we can't leave, not till we rescue the others.'

Bass blinked and straightened up, turning around. 'With Pete and the Murphy's out of the game, the three of us aren't enough to take out nine trained soldiers, not without putting those people in more danger than they're already in.'

Charlie wanted to protest but knew he was right.

Nora looked mutinous. 'But we can't just leave. We have to do something.'

Bass frowned. 'If I'm right, all they'll want to do is put a scare into your friends while they search for us. The DoD sent these guys, hell maybe they even sent the real prisoners. We're also pretty sure that the DoD sent the bombs and killed the President and we know for damn sure that they're after Charlie. They already have her family and they want her and a piece of her dad's intel that she's carrying.' He nodded towards the barrier where the pretend prisoners had gathered the survivors into a tight, cowed group. Some of the younger ones were crying. 'See? I bet they're asking about her now.'

Charlie looked, a couple of the men were holding something up in front of people, asking questions then moving on. 'They've got pictures.' Her heart sank for the people down there because what were those men going to do to them when they didn't find her? She turned to him, 'Bass, they know I'm here, maybe they saw us come in. What if they try to make me come out by hurting them?'

Nora stared at her for a moment, then looked at Bass. 'Wait a minute. I'm a bit lost here. You're saying that the DoD, our own Department of defence killed the President and sent the bombs? Why the hell would our own people do that?'

Bass looked at Charlie then back at Nora. He sucked in a breath. 'We think it's a coup, spearheaded by one man, someone really high up in the DoD, guy called Randall Flynn. Charlie's mom and her dad Ben, who just happens to be Miles' brother, work for them in a place in Colorado, and they developed a way of controlling energy, of cutting it off and putting it on again. We think they caused the blackout, that they're using it to take over the country, maybe more than that. The pendants are a part of it.' He shook his head, 'just before the blackout started, Miles called me, said Ben had called him to warn him that it was going to happen, told him to get prepared.'

Nora had been looking increasingly appalled, her rich honey skin pale. 'So how do we know who's with them and who isn't? How can we fight them if we don't know who they are?'

He shrugged, eyes hard. 'We know some things already, and we're learning more, but it looks like they've been planning this for a long time and yes, we need more intel. They probably have people planted everywhere, politics, the army,' his lips tightened, 'maybe in every branch of the service, maybe in every fucking city and town for all we know.'

'So we need to be careful.' Charlie's hand went to her pendant, it felt warm from her skin, such a little thing to be so much trouble, 'we know they have a symbol, it's like a triangle with an eye in it. It's on their vehicles and other stuff.'

Nora was shaking her head, 'It's a lot to take in. I'd heard that not everyone was happy with the way the peace talks are going, but this is insane.' She stopped talking suddenly, looking over Charlie's shoulder, eyes going wide, her jaw dropping. 'Oh my God…' A stunning smile curved the full, lush mouth. 'It's Miles. He got here.'

'What? Where?' Charlie swung round, almost afraid to look, her heart pounding and hot stupid tears making everything a blurry mess. She blinked hard, relief flowing through her like a warm wave when she saw the tall, powerful and wonderfully familiar figure standing in the cover of the open door of a jewellery shop about fifty feet away. Dressed in baggy, worn jeans, dark shirt and a long leather duster, his thick black hair was in its usual mess and his dark, deep set eyes roving over the three of them, gaze lingering on Nora for a long moment, softening to a warm brown.

Nora was breathing hard, her hands shaking just a little. 'He looks good.'

The eyes tracked to Charlie and Bass, tracing their faces, relief smoothing a few harsh, etched lines at the corners before the dark brown gaze dropped to where Bass' hand rested on Charlie's hip and swept back up, the eyes narrowed this time, suspicion and a hint of anger flashing like lightning in the dark.

Bass tensed for a moment. 'Shit'. The hand on her hip gripped hard and almost pulled away. Then he relaxed again, and Charlie felt the rumble of a chuckle in the broad chest behind her. 'Well, I guess now's as good a time as any.'

For a moment Charlie didn't know what he meant, the last few days it had just been her and Bass and to be truthful she hadn't given a thought to what Miles would think of their being together. She stiffened and grabbed his hand, holding it in place, turning to look at him. 'Bass. I love Miles but we're both adults and it doesn't matter what he thinks about us, ok?'

She grinned at the look on his face. 'Hey, don't worry, I'm sure he'll come around.'

Over in the doorway, Miles raised a hand and beckoned them over to join him and Nora headed out.

Charlie was just about to follow her when she felt a light kiss on her hand.

'Not so sure that he will.' Bass stood up, careful to stay out of sight of the fake prisoner lookouts. 'But let's go beard the dragon.'

As she crept towards the shop beside him, Charlie could see a tall, indistinct figure in the shadows behind Miles who was busy with Nora. 'Who's that with Miles? Is it Jim?'

Bass shook his head, 'don't think so…'

When they got closer to the two men, she could see it was a stranger but by then she didn't care because all she could see was Miles.

Nora, stepped back to give them room. She looked happy, her brown eyes alight, hair tousled and full lips kiss swollen.

Miles met them at the door, glancing at Bass then pulling her into a hug. 'Charlie.' The voice was deep, husky and as warm as she remembered it, his arms as strong, his tall body wrapping her like a shield. He made her feel safe, as though nothing could hurt her, as though she were a child again.

He held her tight, then pulled back a little so he could see her face, his eyes searching hers. 'So what the fuck is going on?' As he said it though, he looked straight at Bass.

…

Miles and Bass were talking in hushed, terse whispers at the back of the shop.

Nora was standing next to Miles, her face grim, adding a comment of her own every now and then.

Charlie could hear some of it. After what Bass had said, she'd been waiting for Miles to challenge him about her and had been poised, ready to argue, but once he'd hugged her and let her go, he and Bass had a brief but intense silent conversation with eyes only. Then they'd gone all Marine and made the back corner of the shop their little war room and after briefly discussing the immediate situation and what to do next, now they were busy talking about Atlanta and Philly, the bombs and what had happened to their unit. She'd also heard something about Ben, the pendant and what the DoD could be planning. Nothing about her mom though, but that wasn't surprising.

She was on lookout duty with Sergeant Jeremy Baker, retired because he'd only got one arm. The man who'd helped Miles get here. Who'd taken being abandoned for Bass pretty well really, in fact he'd fallen into line behind the two men as though he'd always been there.

Too bad she couldn't say the same for herself. As soon as Miles and Bass got together it was as though she was relegated back to being the helpless civilian, all her hard work and proving herself to Bass gone down the crapper. She was apparently no use at all, except for standing watch, even though she was the one who'd brought the fucking pendant in the first place.

Nora seemed to have their respect so it wasn't a girl thing. It was a Charlie thing.

Shit.

She wasn't happy, but she did her job anyway and scanned the Mall. Things had gone quiet at the supermarket barrier, almost as though the fake prisoners were waiting for something or someone? She figured it had to be the rest of their troop. They'd set up a perimeter and had some of the survivors stacking up provisions and supplies in ordered piles, setting others to look after the kids and get them fed. Maybe they'd given up the charade? They were certainly behaving more like soldiers than prisoners. She frowned, hoping that didn't mean bad things for the survivors. Her fellow civilians.

And there was still no sign of Jim. She was getting worried about him.

She was also tired of waiting. 'I'm sorry about your arm.' She looked up at the blond, intelligent and very good looking face.

'It's ok, I'm used to it,' Jeremy shrugged.

He had a nice voice, although he hadn't spoken much since Miles had introduced them. It was pretty obvious though that the two men had become good friends along the way and that Miles liked and trusted him. She liked him too, there was something solid and dependable in his attitude, the way he coped with things. 'I thought the army provided prosthetics?'

He pointed to the backpack on the floor at his feet, 'they did, it's in there, stopped working after the blackout.' He grinned, it was a lop-sided, self-deprecating, charming grin that lit up his face. 'I keep it just in case someone puts the power back on.'

Charlie's hand drifted to the pendant around her neck. She'd wondered early on if there was a way to limit the range of its power and in their brief breaks during the first few days she'd been experimenting. Bass didn't know, not yet anyway, but she'd worked out how to keep the range to a couple of feet, not enough to let anyone know where they were because, hey, she wasn't stupid, but just enough to do things like play stored music on her phone.

Two feet was enough range to power a prosthetic arm though and it'd be good to use the pendant to actually help someone. It wasn't as if it was a secret anymore. Nora knew, so did Miles and she was pretty sure Jeremy wasn't deaf. They didn't know what it could do though, not really. Only Bass had seen it work.

She looked up at him. 'One of my courses at Uni was in prosthetics and neural connectivity but we hadn't got to the practical stuff yet when I had to leave.' She hesitated, it suddenly felt very personal, intrusive. She cleared her throat, 'would you mind… I mean would you show me?'

He looked a little surprised but not offended. Then he shrugged. 'Alright. Always happy to further the cause of good education, you keep watch while I fix it, though, ok?' He reached down and into his pack, pulling out a narrow case and unlatching it. Lying inside was what looked like a flesh and blood forearm and hand, a gold metallic socket at the elbow end.

'Wow…' Charlie looked at it. It was good work, matching skin tone, hand and finger shape. 'It looks real.' She had a quick look outside but nothing had changed. No one seemed to be going anywhere.

Jeremy picked up the prosthetic, flipped back the empty sleeve on his left arm and clicked it into place in the socket built into his bone and flesh. 'The neural connection is instantaneous when we have power. Without it?' His hand hung, useless and still at his side. He sighed, reaching to remove it. 'Damned blackout.'

'Wait a second?' Charlie took the pendant from around her neck, held it out so it was close enough and turned it on, the start-up sound muted so she could hardly hear it. She'd figured out the volume control too.

The prosthetic fingers twitched. Jeremy's eyes went wide, amazed. 'Wha… I can feel my hand.' He stared at Charlie, then down at the pendant then back at his prosthesis, moving his fingers, making a fist then spreading them out again. He blew out a breath. 'So that's what they're talking about?' He glanced at the others, then back at her, his voice hushed. 'No wonder everyone's after it.'

'It's what those soldiers are here for, what we have to protect.' She handed it to him, folding his fingers around it. 'Miles trusts you and I'm hoping I can trust you too.'

He nodded, solemn. 'You can trust me. You don't know what this means. I'll look after it, I promise.'

She felt strangely bereft, her neck light without the weight of the pendant, but she also felt good, as though in some really small way she was making up for what her parents had done. 'I've set the range at two feet so we don't advertise that it's here, but I want you to wear it for a while. I think we'll need both your hands to get out of this one.' She put her regret into her next words. 'I'm sorry, I'm not sure when I'll need it back, but I will.'

He nodded, putting the thong around his neck using both hands to tuck it under his shirt, the movement almost reverent, his blue eyes very serious. 'Just tell me when, believe me, I appreciate any time you're willing to let me wear it.'

She smiled. 'You're welcome. I'll let the others know when they've finished planning our future. And just remember, if you do think of doing anything stupid, you'll have both Miles and Bass after your head.'

He was flexing the prosthetic fingers, one at a time, eyes focused, intent. He glanced at her, a blond eyebrow lifting, that lopsided grin appearing. 'Miles isn't such a badass, and from what he's told me about Bass I think I can take 'em both, no problem, it's Nora I'd worry about. She's the badass.'

Charlie nodded, a laugh bubbling in her chest. 'Yes, she is.' She peered out the door again. Nothing had changed, although the piles of goods were getting noticeably bigger in front of the barrier. Then she noticed the bathroom sign across the aisle only a few yards away, the arrows pointing down a corridor. 'Hey, I really need to go to the bathroom and there's one just over there.' She pointed it out then glanced up at him. 'Can you hold the fort here for a couple of minutes?'

He nodded, making a fist, then releasing, stretching his arm out, bending it, a look of amazement still on his face. Then he focused on her. 'No problem. I'm not sure you should go on your own though.' He turned to the others, 'I'll get someone to relieve me...'

She shook her head and put her pack on the floor next to his. 'It's ok, they're all busy. I'll only be a minute anyway and I'll come straight back.'

He nodded, 'be careful, ok?'

She made sure no one saw her and it didn't take her long to get to the toilet corridor moving along the walls from cover to cover, keeping out of sight and when she got to the actual bathroom about halfway down with a fire exit at the end, she found that some of the women survivors had set things up for comfort. There was natural light and ventilation from a line of high windows, a big barrel of water to flush with and plenty of paper, boxes of sanitary items, gloves and baby changing gear.

It felt almost like things were normal.

She did what she needed to do quickly though, and started to head back out the door.

She had just opened it and stepped out when something was thrown over her head so she couldn't see, then she was grabbed from behind, a hand going over her mouth holding her head back against a broad chest and a strong arm going around her waist, lifting her off the ground.

She started fighting, trying to scream, kicking and twisting, trying to get loose but it was no use, the man holding her was too strong, and then other hands took hold of her arms and legs, holding her feet and she couldn't move at all.

'Miss Matheson, so nice to finally meet you.' The voice was sneering, triumphant, the strange man's breath hot, fetid against the skin of her throat.

Panic almost stopped her breath as she felt wet lips move up her neck and along her cheek, resting against her ear.

'Stay very still Miss Matheson, I have a very sharp knife and I will use it to cut you if you give me a reason to.' He sounded eager, avid, almost as though he wanted her to give him a reason. The hand not over her mouth roved over her abdomen, patting her down. 'Where is it? You know what I want and you're going to tell me where it is.' He chuckled, a throaty, gloating sound. 'Or I could just search you myself, that would give me great pleasure…'

She couldn't see, couldn't scream and she had to fight to breathe through the cloth of the hood. She had just enough strength left to be relieved that she didn't have the pendant and to wish that Bass would come because she wanted him to help her kill this man, wanted it more than anything in the world.

Then everything went black.

….

AN: More soon, Bass and Miles to the rescue… cheers, Magpie


	9. Chapter 9

Rebel, chapter 9

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Hi, thanks so much for wanting more and coming back. Sorry for the delay – RL chucked a few very curly curve balls my way. Hope you enjoy J Cheers, Magpie

…

'What do you mean, she went to the bathroom.' Bass was furious, his eyes cold, one hand hovering over the gun at his hip, the other clenched into a fist.

Jeremy stood straight, almost at attention, both his hands, the real one and the prosthetic raised, defensive. 'Hey, don't shoot the messenger. I said I'd get one of you to relieve me so I could go with her, but she said not to bother you, she'd only be gone a minute.'

'And you actually let her go.' Voice like a whip, Miles was standing next to Bass, shoulder to shoulder, his dark eyes hard, snapping bullets. Then he focused on Jeremy's obviously functional prosthetic hand and frowned, gaze darting to the pendant around Jeremy's neck then up to the other man's face. 'She gave it to you? Fuck.' He glanced around then swung back to Bass, 'so why isn't anything else lit up? I thought you said Ben gave this thing a bigger range than the others?'

Jeremy broke in. 'She said she'd figured out how to change the settings and a few other things...' He trailed off as the other two turned and stared at him wearing nearly identical looks of surprise and outrage.

'Sounds like you two have been getting real close.' Bass moved in closer, eyes hard, full of anger and more than a hint of jealousy.

Jeremy stood his ground, frowning, his gaze swinging from Bass to Miles then back again. 'She didn't tell you about that? Well if you two morons hadn't gone all high and mighty secret squirrel and ignored her and everyone else, she might've told you first and not me.' He tipped his head to the other door at the back of the shop, 'and can I just point out that if the two of you hadn't been blocking the door while you were having your private little conference she might've used the staff bathroom out back of the shop instead of going outside.'

Miles spoke through gritted teeth. 'you should've said something, Jer.'

Jeremy shrugged, 'didn't want to interrupt your little tete a tete.'

Bass glared for a moment longer then frowned, glancing out the door. 'We can sort out who's to blame later. How long has she been gone?'

Nora was standing by the door scanning the shadowed space outside, arms crossed, foot tapping. Her eyes narrowed as she swung back to them, looking increasingly irritated. 'Longer than she should've been. I'll go find her.' She turned to go but stopped as a man's voice echoed through the big space, coming from down where the others were being held outside the big store.

'Sebastian Monroe, I have your girlfriend, and I think you know what I want. Once you give it to me, I'll give her back to you.'

There was a woman's muffled yell of protest, then a yelp of pain.

'Charlie.' Bass leaped towards the door, pushing Nora aside.

Miles pulled him back, ignoring the knife that was now poking into his ribs. 'Don't be an idiot, Bass, that's just what he wants. You know that.'

A low, gloating laugh echoed through the hall. 'She's a pretty little thing isn't she? And so feisty. I'm finding playing with her quite…arousing, in fact I'm almost hoping you take your time so I can get to know her better.'

There was a strangled female growl of fury and outrage.

Miles went rigid, his face a cold mask, then he exploded into movement, shoving his way past Bass and Nora towards the door.

Jeremy lunged, managing to catch the back of Miles' coat with his prosthetic hand, hauling him back inside and holding him there with an effort that showed in the strain on his face.

Nora forced herself between Miles and the door, full lips set, face determined, staring him down. 'Miles. Stop. You were the one who said it. That's just what he wants.' She put a hand on his arm, gripping hard. 'So no one is going out there until we have a fucking plan. Ok?'

Miles kept straining to get to the door, twisting to face Jeremy, frowning at the unyielding strength of the prosthetic. 'Hey quit making with the bionic super glove, ok? Let me go or so help me…'

Jeremy held on tight, shaking his head. 'Sorry, Miles. Not a good idea.'

'Miles, get a grip.' Bass' voice was harsh, impatient, 'you said it, rushing out there and getting yourself killed isn't gonna help. We need to work together or Charlie's dead.' His eyes were hard, ruthless, 'or worse.'

Miles glared at all three of them but stopped trying to shake himself free. 'Ok, but that fucking guy's mine.'

Jeremy let go and backed away towards the back of the shop. 'Hey… no argument from me. But we need more guns. I'll go check under the counter, it's where I'd hide one.'

Bass spared him a glance, nodded approval then got back to checking his weapons. He passed Miles a rifle and a spare clip, eyes hard. 'Not if I get to him first.'

Miles shouldered the gun and slapped the clip into his pocket. 'You can try.'

Nora rolled her eyes, 'So what's the plan?'

Bass looked at Miles, 'remember that town at the end of our last tour, the one where I got slammed?' He shrugged, 'bastards must've hit me pretty hard 'cause I can't remember the name of it.'

Miles nodded, 'yeah, I do, and yeah, they did.' A grim smile twisted his lips and his eyes gleamed. 'That'll do.'

Jeremy peered up from behind the counter, 'We heard about that one. Everyone thought you guys were down and out then wham, back you come and wipe the floor with the other side instead.'

Nora shrugged. 'It was a bad situation but we made it work.'

Bass snorted. 'Yeah,' He rubbed his shoulder, although now there was only the barest ache where the bullet went through, 'but I'm still mad at you two for calling evac on me.'

Nora tipped her head towards Miles, 'you can blame him for that, you were making so much noise I was ready to amputate.'

Miles cocked a dark eyebrow. 'I wasn't.'

Jeremy glanced at Nora and shook his head, still searching through drawers and boxes. 'Remind me not to get on your bad side if I get shot again. I don't want to wake up missing anything else…' Then he grunted in triumph, pulled out a sawn off shotgun and a couple of boxes of ammo and held them up. 'Here we go. Gotta love a careful shopkeeper.'

Nora smirked, 'I'm happy for you. But we're still outnumbered and outgunned and even though we won back in that town, a lot of people still went home in body bags.'

He glanced at her, a blond eyebrow lifting. 'Have a little faith, darlin'.' He held up his prosthetic hand and wriggled the fingers. 'Look at me. I just happen to get out of town in time to not get blown into my component atoms by an ICBM, then get saved from getting beaten to death for my boots by a guy who just happens to be the uncle of a girl with the power to make my hand work and whose parents just happen know how to put the lights on again? What are the odds of all that?' He shoved more rounds into his pockets and came round to her side, blue eyes glinting. 'I gotta say I'm feeling kind of lucky.'

She huffed, slung the strap of her back pack around her neck, adjusted her belt and did a last check of knives and guns. 'Well, I hope your luck rubs off on the rest of us.'

Miles was staring out the door, impatient, hissing back over his shoulder. 'Are you morons ready yet or are we gonna have high tea first?'

Bass moved closer to Miles, leaning in. 'Listen, don't worry. Charlie's tough, I've seen her do stuff in the last few days that I'd never have believed she could. She'll be ok.'

Miles met his eyes. 'She shouldn't be caught up in any of this, Bass. She's just a kid.' He turned for the door.

Bass shook his head and followed, Nora and Jeremy close behind. 'No. She isn't. And I happen to think she's dealing with all of this pretty well.'

Miles grunted something unintelligible.

'Sebastian. You're taking way too long.' The voice from outside was louder, the sing-song slither of madness flowing through it in jarring dissonance. 'So if I don't see someone coming in ten more seconds I'm going to enjoy using my very sharp knife to start cutting little slices from that tempting strip of bare skin between Miss Matheson's pants and that ridiculous top.' The low, sinister chuckle sounded again, 'young women these days have no idea of propriety do they?'

A strangled growl escaped from Miles' throat as his hands bunched into fists. 'I'll give him propriety. I'm going to cut off the guy's dick and balls, then make him eat them, slice by fucking slice…'

Bass' lips were a hard, tight line as he glanced at Miles then back at the others, 'Sounds good to me, now stop talking and let's go.'

…..

Charlie was so pissed she was finding it really hard to breathe inside the hood. The unhinged moron holding her one hand like a vice around her throat and the other around her waist had left her in it, probably to try to make her more scared. It was working. She was scared and she hated it, hated feeling helpless, although there was no way she was going to let him know that.

She wasn't going to tell him that she'd worked out who he was either. His voice was like a screeching shiver up her spine, and she'd heard it before. He'd been with Randall Flynn when he visited her parent's house, the guy's shadow, a uniformed flunkey with the flat, empty eyes of a psychopath.

Flynn had called him Strausser, Major Strausser.

She forced herself to ignore the feel of his hard, hateful body against hers, the sour smell of his skin, the hands roving uninvited and unwelcome over her flesh. Forced herself to breathe slow, to relax cramped, tense muscles and to be ready for when Bass and Miles came.

Because they would come, she knew that as sure as she knew her own name and then Major fucking Strausser wouldn't know what hit him.

….

Randall Flynn lowered his field glasses. He was a bureaucrat, not a military man. He wasn't used to giving orders to soldiers who obviously didn't have a clue what they needed to do next, that was why he had Strausser. He stared down at the rag tag but tough looking band of civilians coming down the road on bicycles of all things and then back at the much smaller group waiting for him a couple hundred yards away, frustration roiling through his veins. This mission was becoming an embarrassment. He didn't have enough men to deal with this new rabble and negotiating with them was probably not an option, the possibility that they would trust anyone from the government was pretty remote, especially after the bombs.

He turned the glasses towards the Mall, but there was no sign of anyone, no one living anyway although Strausser and most of his platoon were inside with orders to obtain the Matheson pendant and these newest civilians could not be allowed to interfere.

There could be no witnesses now. None. Even the Matheson girl had become expendable. He still had her brother and Rachel Matheson would burn the world to cinders for her son. Danny Matheson would have to be enough.

Flynn's hand went to the pendant around his neck. He could use it, but the risk that the girl had found a way to use hers to its full potential was too great. If her traitor of a father had done even half of what he suspected, it was highly likely that her pendant could actually control his. She was smart enough to figure it all out too, he'd seen her academic transcripts. She was an outstanding student, not surprising given her genes, and she'd been studying the same fields as her parents. There was no way she wouldn't have been experimenting, no way she hadn't worked out some of the pendant's secrets.

He couldn't afford to let her know where he was. But he also needed to find out what Strausser was doing and what was taking him so long to deal with a few civilians and a girl, even if they did have Sebastian Monroe on their side, and there was only one way to do that. He needed to go in there himself, find out what was going on and consolidate his troops. Then they could finish off these inconvenient civilians, stop this increasingly farcical operation and get back to the real work of establishing the new government of a new, better United States.

He waved at the soldiers waiting in the shelter of a big semi-trailer stopped just short of the loading dock at the back of the Mall by the blackout and pointed towards the big double doors standing open, leading inside.

The soldiers glanced at each other, a couple of them shrugged, then one of them waved back and all of them started towards the doors at a fast trot.

Flynn frowned and cursed under his breath, damning their eyes and their stupid hand signals as he forced his ageing body to run to catch up.

They were supposed to wait for him.

…

Jim lowered his field glasses, passing them to Sophie. 'Look, do you see those guys heading in to the Mall? They must be the ones Charlie was talking about, the ones from the trucks. I knew there was more to all this than some escaped prisoners.'

Sophie looked, her lips tight, the passed the glasses back and glanced up at her husband. 'Looks like you were right.' She reached up and caressed his cheek. 'Glad you came to warn us. We could've walked right into it.' She looked over at the trees down by the river where he'd said Pol had hidden the horses and wagons, she could just see the faintest outline of a wagon if she squinted. 'Pol and the boys are safe?'

'Yeah, they're gonna wait there till I give the all clear.' He smiled down at her although his eyes were grim as he looked back at the line of friends, neighbours, new and old gathered behind them, waiting for the word to go. They were a mixed bunch but well-armed and tough, and willing to fight for their own and what was right. They'd proved that over the last few days. He turned back to his wife. 'We're still walking right into it though. The prisoners are bad enough, but these guys are a whole other story and it looks like Miles, Bass, Charlie and a whole bunch of other folks are in a world of trouble in there.'

She shrugged and got back on her sturdy mountain bike. 'Well get on behind me then, we'd better hurry.'

…..

Bass looked out at the scene in the centre of the Mall from his cover behind a juice stand then glanced over at Miles, standing with Nora like a shadow behind his shoulder.

Even from this distance, the dark eyes of his brother were hard, flat, deadly, his nod back to Bass brief, a tiny movement of his head before his attention returned to what was happening out on the floor.

The cowed civilians were sitting in a huddled circle in front of the ground floor restrooms, adults on the outside, older children in the middle, the younger ones in their parent's arms. Armed guards stood at regular spaces around them.

Pete's body had been dragged over to the wall but the twins were still tied to their pillar and seemed very much alive, although covered in blood. They had a guard of their own.

The real escaped prisoners were still tied up, lying slumped against the walls. Most of them looked to be unconscious or asleep with at least one possibly dead. The others were awake and alert, their eyes focused on the man standing on a small stage under a torn and drooping banner advertising a children's show. The man was holding a familiar, lithe, female figure, a canvas hood covering her head. The guy's hands were crawling over her body like spiders.

Charlie.

Bass saw her through a red haze, his blood boiling in his veins as a killing fury ignited in his belly. He had to force himself to stay still, to keep from rushing out all guns blazing. He locked eyes with Miles again, a look of total understanding passing between him and the man who was more than his brother.

Time to move.

…

AN: Thanks again, next one up as soon as I can (last one I think…), cheers, Magpie


	10. Chapter 10

Rebel, chapter 10

A Revolution fic Bass Monroe, Charlie Matheson. Miles Matheson. Charloe. Blackout AU.

Denver, Colorado, 2027. The blackout didn't happen in 2012 because the weapon failed, killing most of the Nanotech project team although the Matheson's escaped and continued their work. When Charlie found out what they were doing and tried to warn people, everything changed and she was a fugitive, running to the only person left who might be on her side, her Uncle Miles.

AN: Hi, thanks so much for coming back again, hope you enjoy this one Cheers, Magpie

…

Bass hit the ground running, a steel hubcap from one of the display cars clutched in his left hand as a shield, his body moving in the fast, familiar, liquid, instinctive dance of zig zag, hit, deflect, check position and objective, hit, dodge to cover again, fire, bullets and fists flying and bodies falling around him.

Miles was a tall, dark blur at 3 o'clock heading towards Charlie, forging a grim, unstoppable path through the enemy in his way, black coat swinging, his own hubcap shield sparking the sunlight into silver splinters as he hurled it against one of them, knocking the man flying.

Jeremy and Nora were further away at 6 and 9, Jeremy and his prosthetic hand pummelling bodies with a force like Thor's hammer, his shield almost superfluous, the pendant swinging around his neck.

Nora fought in a fast, lithe rhythm, her kicks and punches smooth, graceful and deadly, a fierce grin curving her full lips as she worked her way steadily towards the Murphy twins, still tied to their pole but awake and looking extremely pissed. She hadn't bothered with a shield, instead at each step she tossed small balls out of her belt pouch that exploded at her opponents feet, knocking them off balance and leaving them coughing and gasping in writhing clouds of coloured, odd smelling smoke.

The big space echoed with shouts, screams and the sharp crack of gunfire, the number of enemy left standing shrinking fast. Some of the people held captive by the pretend prisoners were joining in using whatever they could find as weapons while others hustled crying children out of the way. The real prisoners watched from where they were tied up against the wall, struggling but helpless.

Bass finished off the last soldier in his path, sending one elbow slamming into the guy's ear and knocking him to the ground, finishing the job with a hard jab to the forehead with the rifle butt. Then he glanced over at Nora and Jeremy, seeing them holding their own and then checked the prisoners, assessing them for possible threat and finding none, dismissed them and turned to the bastard holding Charlie.

Her captor seemed to be in shock, his eyes wide, gaze darting round the space, shaking his head in anger and denial. His mouth opened, lips moving.

Bass couldn't hear what he said above the noise but it looked a lot like 'what the fuck'. He choked off a laugh because hey, the guy was right although he didn't realise just how fucked he was. He'd touched Charlie, hurt her.

He was dead, now or later, just didn't know it yet.

Miles had run out of enemies and was stalking towards Charlie and her captor, his face set and hard. His dark eyes found Bass, an eyebrow lifting, raised fingers moving in a signal. "Ready?"

Bass nodded, sending back a signal of his own. "Fuck yeah."

The other man noticed them, going very still, gaze skating over Miles to Bass then quickly back again, recognition and shock widening his eyes and dropping his jaw, his attention diverted from Charlie for just a moment.

It was enough.

Charlie moved, her head jerking back hard and fast into the man's face sending blood spurting from his nose, her body curving round, one knee smashing into her captor's groin as she twisted free, her fists punching into his throat before dropping down to her feet to undo the ropes round her ankles. As they dropped to the ground she reached up, tore the hood off her head and blinked in the light, her eyes finding Miles first, relief gleaming bright then sweeping to Bass in a split second clash of clear blue heat that curled his toes.

She reached out, grabbed the guy's gun from his belt turned and ran full tilt towards Bass as her former captor collapsed to the ground, his face twisted into an anguished, gasping snarl.

Miles watched her go, eyes narrowed, then flashed a glance at Bass, suspicion and a dawning understanding in the dark eyes. Then he closed in on Strausser, lips curled in a grim, angry smile as he flipped his rifle butt first, raising it above his head.

Strausser watched him come, eyes glaring, bitter and tried to crawl away but couldn't make it. Nor could he avoid the rifle butt as it crashed into his temple, toppling him like a tree.

Bass grinned as he watched Charlie run towards him, hair flying and looking like every good dream he ever had. Fuck, she was something else. He held out a hand, thumb up, grin getting wider at the look of sheer triumph on her face. He tore his eyes away and looked around. Nora, Jeremy and the Murphy's had taken care of the rest of the pretend prisoners and none of them were still standing. He took a moment to be glad that whoever had trained these guys had done a piss poor job of it. They'd fallen like amateurs.

Charlie had almost reached him when her eyes widened and she pointed over his shoulder, shouting a warning, her voice harsh. 'Bass. Behind you.'

Shit. He whirled, counting half a dozen soldiers coming in fast from one of the service corridors and head towards cover behind a row of toppled benches. Another man followed behind them, older, slower, obviously civilian, dressed in khaki like the others, all of them wearing a familiar triangle in a circle insignia. Patriots. His whole being rebelled at the name they'd given themselves. Blowing millions of people off the map wasn't any kind of patriotism he recognised.

Outside the supermarket in the big centre space, Nora had freed the twins and was checking Pete, her fingers vainly searching for a pulse at the side of his throat, when she heard the new soldiers arrive. She turned, grief morphing to alarm and backed away, keeping low, going after the twins as they darted towards the cover of the escalator banks.

Jeremy followed, tossing screens and fake palm trees from a fashion display into piles to give them more cover.

Bass watched to make sure Nora and the others made it, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a new clip, slapping it in by feel. He glanced at Charlie. 'Damn it. These fucking patriots keep coming like flies at a barbecue.' He caught a handful of her hair, gently pulled her close and dropped a hard, fierce kiss on her lips, 'and as for you, you know that I'm not going to let you out of my sight again, ever, right? And If I'm not there, Miles is gonna be…'

Charlie was flushed and panting after her escape and the kiss, her eyes glinting up at him, full of a combination of heat, relief and irritation. 'Don't be an idiot. I totally had it covered.' She slipped out of his arms and swooped down to pick up a couple of rifles from the floor, checking them over before swinging them over her shoulder, 'But thanks anyway.' She glanced over at Miles, marching over towards them, 'and as for Miles? If you two hadn't gone all gung-ho marine back there I wouldn't have had to go outside in the first place.'

Bass looked down at her, a mix of emotions roiling in his head, echoed on his face, his chest tight. 'Charlie… I..'

'I've been wondering when these guys'd show up.' Miles came up beside them, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek, his coat torn and tattered and knuckles bruised. He glanced at Charlie, eyes softening, his free arm wrapping her in a brief, hard, hug. 'Hey, you did good, kid,' He threw a hard look at Bass, then softened again, dropping a kiss on her head, 'but try to keep your stupid to a minimum next time, ok?'

'What do you mean, my stupid?' Charlie pulled away from Miles, glaring up at him.

Bass sucked in a breath and tore his gaze away from Charlie, eyes going hard as they met his brother's. 'There won't be a next time because next time we're not going to be the morons blocking the fucking door so she has to go outside to take a piss.' Blood dripped from a cut above his eye and he wiped it away with the back of a hand.

Miles stared at him, his face a mix of confusion and outrage. 'What door?'

'I'll fill you in later.' Bass pointed with the barrel of his gun towards the newcomers. 'As for the traveling show, looks like the ring master of this little circus is here too.' He tipped his head towards an older man coming up behind the newcomers, 'see the old guy? Take a look at what he's wearing round his neck.'

Miles frowned, shook his head and turned to look. 'Well, crap.' Miles stared at the pendant. 'He's got one of those damn things too. What the hell is Ben doing up in Colorado, handing 'em out like candy at halloween?'

Charlie was staring too, her eyes narrowed and the hard, cold blue of icicles. 'That's Randall Flynn. He's been behind everything, the blackout, the bombs. My parents ending the world. Everything.' She shook her head, fury and determination thinning her full lips to a hard line. 'I am so over these fucking patriots.' She took a couple of steps then paused mid stride, looking back over her shoulder, a hand holding her gun straps steady on her shoulder. 'Are you coming or what?' She didn't wait for an answer but was gone, long strands of dirty blond hair swinging as she sped away.

Bass swore. 'Damn it, why does she keep doing that?' He glared at Miles, 'it's your fault.' He started after her.

'My fault?' Miles followed him, keeping pace and slapping a fresh clip into his gun as he ran, 'how the fuck is it my fault?'

Bass was doing the same, his hands quick, efficient, practiced. 'You're her uncle aren't you? So it's your fault. She's so like you it isn't funny.'

Miles looked pleased, raising his gun and taking aim. 'Really?' Then he frowned, the gun dropping a little and suspicion glinting. 'You and Charlie seem pretty close.' He fired, taking cover behind a pillar as a bullet buzzed past and sent a hard glance at Bass. 'Too fucking close.' He glared, peered around the pillar, firing again and glancing back, eyes harsh. 'I know you. What did you do?'

Bass swung in next to him, glaring back at him. 'Nothing she didn't want me to.' He leaned out, let off a couple of shots and ducked, a return bullet just missing his ear.

'Are you fucking kidding me?' Miles swung around, anger and disbelief fighting for supremacy in his eyes. 'You and Charlie? Really?' His voice was harsh, getting louder, 'and you actually thought I'd be ok with that?' He fired again, a rain of shots, the sounds echoing back. He grunted in satisfaction, diverted for a moment. 'These morons don't have any fucking idea, do they?' He smiled like a shark, all sharp edges and narrow eyed glare, 'once we're done here, Bass, you and I are gonna have a serious chat.'

Furious now, Bass fired then swung back, his lips tight, voice harsh. 'Bring it on, Miles, what you did with Rachel doesn't exactly give you the right to take the high fucking moral ground.'

The space around them became, crowded, testosterone taking up all the room, the air thick with tension and taut, male muscle.

'I think it's ok, Miles, or doesn't what I think matter to you?' Charlie was suddenly there, looking from one of them to the other, eyes blazing. 'Now are you two going to focus or am I gonna have to do this on my own?' She didn't wait for an answer, just turned and left. She knew they were coming though. She could feel them, blue eyes and black boring into her back...

Heading for Nora, Jeremy and the others, she flew from cover to cover, dodging bullets almost feeling natural now, just another part of her day. She sucked in a breath and focused, Flynn and that other pendant had to be neutralized or they could all be in deeper shit.

Closer now with Miles and Bass coming up behind, she could see the twins tag teaming hand to hand with a couple of the soldiers while Nora and Jeremy held the others pinned down from behind the counter of a tech accessory stall. She couldn't see Flynn but as Jeremy waved at her, beckoning her over she caught a glimpse of his grey head, keeping low, trying to stay out of sight. Her skin crawled. The coward. He made her feel sick to her stomach, he'd killed so many people, destroyed so many lives.

Determined to end it, end him, she ran the last few yards and slid in, nodding at Nora then slipping in beside Jeremy, glancing up at him with apology in her eyes. 'You know what I said about needing it back?'

Jeremy was already pulling the thong over his head, the look on his face calm, reassuring. 'Don't worry, honey, soon as I saw the old man had one too, I knew you'd need it back.' He passed it over, pressing it into her hand. 'Finish the bastard.'

'Thanks,' she smiled up at him although her eyes and fingers were already busy on the pendant. 'I'm going to try something, I'll try not to lose power to your hand, but if he works out what I'm doing before I finish, I don't really know what'll happen. We could all end up floating in space or something worse maybe...' Her voice was preoccupied, distant, fingertips fluttering over the tiny controls on the edge of the pendant, her mouth twisting in a wry smile, an eyebrow quirking. 'Nearly there. My dad really is a genius, you know.' She a small adjustment then hesitated before making the final move, frowning. 'I think this'll work, but if it doesn't…' She took a deep breath and let it out. 'If it doesn't I could set us all on fire.' She looked up at him, her eyes wide. 'Jeremy. I don't know what to do. What if…'

Jeremy put a hand on her shoulder, squeezed, 'Like I said before, Chica, I believe in you.' He nodded. 'Do it.'

She swallowed, took another breath, let it out then nodded. 'Ok.' Her fingers moved.

….

Randall Flynn wasn't a soldier, but he knew how to use a gun and had used it while he watched the girl run with Miles Matheson and Sebastian Monroe together against all the odds just behind her. Had kept firing at her when Strausser and his soldiers fell. He kept firing too while fury and disappointment curdled together like hot lava in his belly, cursing his bad aim and lack of practice. When he saw the girl reach shelter though he put the gun down, reached up to cradle the pendant around his neck and started creeping back towards the exit. No choice now but to cut his losses and get back to the trucks, back to Colorado, back to Ben and Rachel Matheson who would do whatever he told them to or he'd make an example of their son.

Then he would rain ICBM's and hot fire down on Chicago and rid himself of Charlotte Matheson and her band of traitors.

He frowned. Something strange was happening. He looked down. The pendant was getting hot in his hand although it never had before. It got hotter, then hotter still, the metal searing his skin. Eyes wide with shock and disbelief he tried to let go but it was stuck to his palm, pain shooting up his arm and as he looked down and saw the ring of crackling brightness that surrounded his feet panic flooded him, terror building as he saw flames race to catch his trouser legs, felt the soles of his boots burning, his flesh melting as the concrete under his feet caught fire, stinking smoke rising, the pain excruciating, unbearable…

He screamed.

'What the fuck?' Miles stared at the hissing, writhing pillar of flame, the colour leaving his face as it collapsed into a smoking red crusted pile on the floor sending sparks and ashes spiralling up into the air.

Bass glanced at Charlie then looked back at what was left of Randall Flynn, his eyes gleaming and the corners of his lips lifting in what looked like an admiring smile. 'I gotta find out how she did that.'

There was a clatter of running feet and both men turned, guns raised, ready, then dropped almost at the same moment as Sophie, Jim and the rest of the town militia came towards them at a run.

For some time after that everything was noise and confusion as they all met up, everyone talking at once, people from the store coming out to join in, cautious but happy to see the newcomers, more than happy to offer help to move the bodies outside and gather supplies so that they could all leave.

No one wanted to stay longer than they had to.

…...

Charlie had given the pendant back to Jeremy and had one arm round Miles, the other holding tight to Bass, a smile lighting her face as she watched Jim and Sophie organise people into teams gathering supplies and loading them onto trolleys ready to take back to town. Nora was over there too, hugging some of the kids, reassuring their parents before heading over to join them. 'Nora was amazing, wasn't she?'

Miles nodded, holding a hand out to Nora as she got closer, 'Yeah.' He slid a glance at Bass over the top of Charlie's head, eyes narrow, black. 'So were you, kid. But we need to talk.'

Nora heard him as she slid under his shoulder and reached up to pull him down for a kiss. 'Don't be such a pain in the ass, cowboy.' She sent a dark eyed, laughing glance towards Charlie. 'This is the apocalypse, cut 'em some slack.'

Charlie grinned back at her and let go of Miles, turning to Bass, reaching up to put her arms around his neck, leaning into his strength, loving the way his body welcomed hers, relief that they'd all come through making her feel light headed, almost giddy. Then she sobered up, 'Flynn's gone, but what about the others, the ones he was working with?'

He pulled her in close, 'we'll need to go talk to your dad about that, but how about we get back to town first, gather some real Intel and do it properly.'

She nodded, her eyes turning wicked, 'ok, but let's find a place of our own, Miles' place is going to be a bit crowded.'

'I heard that.' Miles looked up from kissing Nora, 'you are not going to shack up with that moron, Charlie. Your dad would kill me.'

Charlie lifted an eyebrow, 'excuse me?'

Nora chuckled and pulled him back. 'Hey, you're going to be too busy making up for lost time with me to worry about anything else, Miles Matheson.'

He sighed and shook his head, resigned. 'Ok, I give up.' He wrapped his arms tighter around Nora then glanced at Bass then Charlie, 'I can't stop you doing anything, kid, but you do know that Rachel's gonna kill him if Ben doesn't, don't you?'

Bass dropped a kiss on the top of Charlie's head, his hands gentle on her shoulders, 'It'll be worth it.'

Charlie reached up and pressed her lips to his, his scruff tickling her chin and upper lip, his kiss sweet and deep, tasting of smoke, danger and the promise of pleasure to come. She laughed against his mouth. 'Don't worry, I won't let them touch you.'

…

Will Strausser watched from his hiding place in a cleaner's cupboard as the girl, Monroe, Matheson and the others left, the real prisoners set free and grateful to be left to fend for themselves. His hands were tense, itching to kill someone, anyone, but he forced them to stay still at his sides. He'd wait for the right time. Like when he had her again. He smiled, his eyes hot, avid. She was a peach and he could eat peaches all the fucking day long.

Once he was sure they'd gone, he strolled over to where Flynn was a pile of charred ash and bones. Using a stick he moved the still cooling fragments around, searching. It was almost too much to hope that it had survived the flames, but he was a hopeful man.

His stick hit something harder than bone and the sullen gleam of metal glinted from under the ashes. He bent to pick the pendant up, his thumb rubbing the oily ash off to reveal pristine silver, not really surprised that it seemed whole, undamaged. It was almost as though it was meant to come to him. Good.

He'd watched Flynn enough to know the basics of how to use it but needed time to work the kinks out. Flynn had been a fool and a fanatic and now he was dead. Will Strausser didn't intend to make the same mistakes.

Plans already forming in his mind, Strausser started walking back to base and the trucks.

….

AN: Thanks so much again for reading and sticking with this story – and for some encouraging and very welcome comments. I've kind of left an opening for more if the muse moves me but for the moment, this is it.

Hope to catch up with you at another story, wishing you all the very best. Xx Magpie


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